At The End of the Book
by xMissWhitneyBexx
Summary: Francis and Mary are finally stronger than ever following events with Condé. Now having the time to start a family, they are faced with the reality of being parents and ruling two countries, the drama doesn't stop for anyone. Especially them.
1. A Pregnant Queen

**Right, this is my first Frary story. Frary is my second favourite ship, I can't imagine Frary ever being apart. I even stopped watching Reign after Francis died, but I'll admit, I watched the last ever episode and grinned like an idiot when they were reunited in the afterlife. I've been in love with the ship since I first saw them walk together when they reunited since childhood in the show.**

**As usual, this is an AU story, however, still set in Reign's time and set after Condé. Francis lives in this story and some things are the same on the show, but I've taken some parts from that to make this. I've changed a few things to make it easier to write. It does have Kennash, might have Greerleith, Greersius, Larcisse and so on, but Frary is the main characters. **

* * *

Mary placed a loving hand on her stomach. She couldn't feel anything, but she knew a baby was growing in there. A beautiful baby, _hopefully,_ a boy inside her. _There was time for daughters after_, Catherine had said.

She couldn't help but smile until the harsh reality hit her and she watched as Kenna's carriage rode away from the castle. She had waved, not wanting to say goodbye forever.

Kenna had wanted to remember them as they were, happy, young and free. Women married or separated, they loved each other dearly, their friendship too strong to break.

"Please, Kenna," Mary whispered, feeling a hand touch her shoulder. She turned and gave Greer and Lola sad smiles. "It's futile, isn't it? Willing her to turn around and come back?"

"Bash will soon realise the mistake he's done. Letting her go," Greer said, hope in her voice. "They belong together."

"What about you?" Lola asked her. "Will you reunited with Leith Bayard now Lord Castleroy has been imprisoned?"

Greer's face fell. "I love them both dearly. I am still a woman wed and I don't think love is for me."

"Don't say that," Mary said, shaking her head. "You will find happiness. At least you've been cleared of any involvement with the funding..."

She trailed off when she saw Kenna's carriage return back to the castle. A smile graced her lips and she hurried, her other ladies following her to meet her.

"Kenna, what happened?" Mary asked once they saw the brunette exit from her carriage.

"There's a storm coming," Kenna told them. "The driver said it would be best to wait another day..."

Mary sighed, bringing her friend in for a tight hug. "I'm so sorry."

"You can stay with me in my chambers," Lola offered, but Kenna shook her head.

"I'll be fine in... _mine_," Kenna mumbled, thinking about the last time she'd been in that bed. "Thank you very much for the offer. I think I will go and rest."

She let go of Mary, walking past her friends to enter the castle. Neither of the women missed the tears in Kenna's eyes once they realised what staying meant.

"There you are, Mary!" Francis cried out, sighing in relief. "I've been looking for you _everywhere_."

She gave him a small smile, dismissing Greer and Lola to walk with Francis. They found themselves walking through the gardens, away from earshot.

"What is it?" Mary finally asked when they stopped.

"When were you going to tell me?" He asked, smiling widely. "That you... you were-"

"With child?" She breathed out, a smile playing on her lips. "I only found out shortly after Kenna left. Then, she came back and I went to meet her before you took me away. Who told you?"

He kissed her first before replying with, "My mother. She was excited at the thought of finally having an heir."

"I wanted to be the one to tell you," Mary said softly. "I guess it is better that she knows as opposed to others. We should keep it between us for the meantime."

"Of course," her husband replied happily, lifting her up as she giggled happily. "Oh, I can't believe it. You will be the best mother in the world."

"And you will be the best father in the world," Mary replied just as relieved and happy. "How is Bash? I heard you went for a short ride together."

Francis sighed. "He's hurting. He was prepared to reconcile with Kenna, but-"

"She had a good reason," Mary argued gently. "And she barely believed the news to be true. Although..."

"'Although', what Mary?" Francis asked her. "Kenna lied and now she's carrying the child of a traitor. A man who almost killed her husband-"

"The child is Bash's," Mary said quietly, looking around to see if anyone heard her. "It's not impossible that it's Renaude's, but Kenna had been feeling somewhat uneasy before they... That and her dresses were very snug on her. It was their separation that prevented her from saying anything and now, she's here for another day and she'll see Bash and... Everything will fall apart because he already believes what he wants to believe and that is not the truth. He never lets her explain her reasoning or herself."

Francis nodded, taking it all in. "Bash is very stubborn, I know that about my brother. He won't take new information unless he can prove it."

"Does he want her to wait until she births the baby in six months to realise she's telling the truth?" Mary asked rhetorically. "She'll be gone and she won't ever come back and I'll lose her."

"So, you want her to stay for your sake and not hers or Bash's?" Francis asked.

Mary faltered. "Of course not. I want her to be happy."

"At the expense of two people's happiness and their child's?"

Mary leant her forehead on Francis's chest. "I've loved and I've lost. Our child during John Phillip's christening, Aylee, my mother... I cannot afford to lose those important to me, I cannot afford to lose you."

"I will talk to Bash," Francis finally said, running a hand through her hair. "I guess we will need all the support we can get now that you're with child!"

They laughed happily, sharing a sweet kiss as Francis placed a hand on her stomach. They were having a baby, a family and their baby will probably be the future king of France and Scotland.

"I love you, Francis," she said, smiling widely.

"I love you too, Mary. My queen, my wife, the mother of my child... You're everything to me and if what we've been through has shown us something, it's that we can get through everything and anything."

"Even being parents to the Dauphin of France?" She asked.

He nodded. "Or a little princess. Either way, I have a good feeling that we will be holding our baby in our arms and they'll scream the castle down."

"I have that feeling too," she replied, kissing him.

...

When Mary quietly entered the bedchambers, she found Kenna inhaling a pillow deeply, tears running down her cheeks as soft sobs escaped her lips.

"Kenna?"

Kenna sat up immediately, wiping her tears and letting out a wide smile. "Mary, how are you?"

Mary sat beside her on the bed, playing with Kenna's hair as she said, "It smells like him, doesn't it?"

"Yes," Kenna whispered, her tears returning. "I am a selfish, horrible woman. I am a liar, a stupid woman... I pity the child inside me-"

"Do _not_ say those things about yourself," Mary snapped softly.

"They are true!" Kenna cried out. "Bash more or less said that and he... he doesn't lie." _To other people, at least_.

"Are you going to remain here until tomorrow?" Mary asked her.

Kenna nodded. "If I won't cross paths with Bash if I stay here. Nor that horrible Delphine. She probably has him in her bed and... Oh, I can't bear the thought of my husband and her, laughing at my expense!"

"Francis will talk to him."

"His mind is already made," Kenna said sadly. "Already twisted and poisoned. It's too late. I guess I should be thankful for the small mercy that my child is not a bastard like their father."

Mary sighed, bringing Kenna to lay on her lap. They sat in silence, the occasional cry or sniffle coming from Kenna. Eventually, they were joined by Lola and Greer and the four of them hugged each other, tears rolling down their cheeks.

"Will we ever find happiness?" Greer croaked out after an hour of silence.

"I'd like to believe so," Lola told them. "We're still young, we will be happy."

Mary bit her lip, nodding in reply. "In eight months, Francis and I will be parents," she confessed.

The three women looked up at her, sitting up in shock and wonder. It wasn't long until they let out squeals of happiness, placing their hands on Mary's non-existent bump and hugging her.

"If I was not leaving, our children would have grown up together," Kenna told her, her smile disappearing. "Such is life."

"Please, stay," Mary said softly.

"If I do, my reputation won't be protected. Bash promised he wouldn't let anyone know about my being with child," Kenna told them, her voice strained. "He wants me to be protected by his name until I... I find someone else, then we can seek an annulment."

Lola took her hand. "Is it really Renaude's? Is there no way for Bash to accept and claim this child?"

Kenna shared a glance with Mary and she with the Queen's comforting nod, she turned back to Lola and Greer. "It is not Renaude's. Bash would not believe me anyway, there is no point in trying. If a queen cannot convince him, a king's word is for nothing as well."

Greer frowned. "Even if the king is his brother? Surely, Francis's word holds meaning, king or not?"

"Why are we speaking as if I am remaining?" Kenna asked, chuckling nervously. "I may have missed the ship for Sweden today, but I will catch it tomorrow in the morning. Soon, the baby will have another family and he will never know who we are. It is better this way."

That night, the four women sought comfort with each other, all praying for a better future. One woman praying that the baby inside her would live and sit on the throne in the future.


	2. A Trustful Queen

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* * *

"I still can't quite believe it," Francis said the next morning, placing his ear on her bare stomach. "Our child is in there."

Mary giggled when his hair tickled her chest. "Yes, they are in there. I hope for a son."

"I hope for a healthy baby, Mary," Francis said. "Forget what my mother said about there being time for daughters later. We will have a healthy baby for us. Not just to strengthen our rule, but to mould into the greatest person there is."

Mary beamed, tears stinging her eyes. She got awfully emotional quickly these days. Her happiness was known around the castle and members at Court had been wondering why her spirits were more high than usual. Especially as her ladies in waiting were so glum about their lives.

Some had even guessed right and assumed she was pregnant, but they would not let on. Not until they were past the third month.

"Anne," Francis said softly. "Marie Anne."

Mary grinned. "Or Francis James?"

"How pompous of me," he said. "To have my child named after me."

"Says the man who suggested naming our possible daughter after _me_ and her grandmother," Mary retorted lightly. "The cheek of being so modest."

Francis chuckled, the vibrations sending fireworks through her body against her soft skin. He wished he could lay like this forever, every day, but he was a king. He had a country (or two) to rule.

"I wish we could remain as we are," he said softly. "We cannot."

"No," she said sadly. "I must get ready. I have to see Kenna, she is leaving this morn-"

"I spoke to Bash," Francis said, jumping so he could sit up and face her. "He's willing to listen."

Mary gasped. "Is he?" She asked, a smile growing on her face. "Is he willing to reconcile-"

"Listen, Mary. So much has happened between them, we cannot intervene or even wish for them to reunite unless it is on their terms. Ideally, I would entertain the thought of having a niece or nephew, but I cannot decide for my brother," Francis told her.

Mary nodded, realising her excitement was misplaced. "That is true. At least it is a start."

Before either of them could move from their bed, their doors were burst open, Catherine flanked by maidservants with tonics and food on trays.

"Oh, the secrecy is killing me!" Catherine cried out dramatically. "Mary, would you be a dear and take these tonics? Oh, we must start feeding you, you are too thin, the baby would starve in there!"

Mary shared a look with her husband who sheepishly grinned back. She closed her eyes when his lips kissed her forehead before they pulled away and spoke.

"Mother, could we-"

"Have time to get dressed? No," Catherine cut him off. "The sooner she eats, the better. You are carrying the future King of France, Mary!"

"Or princess-"

"Francis, would you be a dear and excuse us?" Catherine said, glaring at him.

Francis grinned. "If only you will allow us to get dressed. I am sure our modesty is protected if-"

"Turn around!"

All persons except Catherine turned around and Mary blushed even deeper.

"I am also carrying the future heir of Scotland," she finally found her voice. "If you would not mind and turn around as well..."

Catherine considered her options before she finally turned, speaking to them. "Be quick, every minute counts. There's a royal baby on the way."

...

Kenna took a shaky breath as she almost stumbled onto the wall. She felt dazed and weak and all she wanted to do was gather enough strength to get to her carriage.

It was Francis who walked by before doing a double-take and turning to her. He was concerned, eyeing her as the colour seemed to drain from her face by the second.

"Kenna?"

"Y-Your Majesty," she said breathlessly, leaning her head against the coldness of the walls. She winced in pain, taking a sharp intake of breath in before she turned to face Francis.

"Are you alright?" Francis asked her, stepping towards her. "Have you seen Bash?"

She shook her head. "I have not. I have been... avoiding him," she admitted, looking down. "Mary said he wanted to see me. I know that is a lie after what he said yesterday."

"It is true," Francis said, offering her his arm.

She eyed it warily until the pain returned and she cried out, collapsing onto the ground. She felt his presence beside her immediately as he demanded to know what was happening.

"Help me to my carriage, please," she begged him. "My ship sails for Sweden this morning and I cannot miss it again."

"Kenna, if you would see Bash before you leave. He may change your mind..."

Francis's eyes cast downwards to the ground where a pool of blood was seeping onto the carpet. He looked around to see if anyone was walking by, but they were the only ones there.

"It's too late, anyway," she said, disheartened. "I'm losing it."

She laid down on the ground and let the pain happen. She shoved Francis off whenever he tried to lift her up or move her. She didn't care anymore, nothing mattered.

At least she could be a lady-in-waiting again. Live her life as a woman whose husband wants nothing to do with her. A woman separated. A woman that was untouchable. A woman unloved.

As a girl, she dreamed to be a queen or a woman of high title, higher than her father's probably. With those childish dreams, she lost the only man who mattered. Who saw her differently than the King's Mistress or a whore. Differently than the stupid girl who almost had her future husband's life threatened for her own selfish reasons.

If Bash was not of royal blood and was dirt poor, she would have chosen him. At first, no. As she grew to love him, accept his flaws and his best parts and the sex..., she would have remained his until they died. If he died, she would die with him.

Renaude was lust, no love. Bash was lust, love and everything in between. Bash was her good days and her bad days. Bash was her comfort and her friend. She had saved his life on two occasions. With Bernard's wife's threats bringing her to burn the evidence against Bernard and with Renaude about to drive his sword through her true love's back.

No matter how selfish she was, Bash was the one. And she lost him because of her secrets and her lies. Yet, he held his own secrets and lies that he would never reveal to her. Why were hers as worse as his own?

Was he not a murderer? Did she not defend her husband's reasoning as to why he took the lives of others? To other people, her husband was dark, murderous and scary. To her, he was loving, cherished and sweet.

"Kenna, please," Francis begged, cutting her out of her thoughts. "Let me help."

She eyed him, tears slipping from her eyes as she finally nodded a little. She sat up and allowed him to lift her into his arms. Her head rested against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. It wasn't Bash's. Bash's was quicker, stronger and it sometimes lulled her to sleep, knowing her husband was safe in her arms until he went to find the next monster and be a hero again.

"I will never stop loving him," she croaked out to Francis as he walked through the servants' pathways to meet Nostradamus. "No one will ever be him and I don't want them."

"You'll be happy again, Kenna," Francis told her. "You will find happiness, I promise."

She closed her eyes. She didn't believe him at all.

...

Mary ran and ran and ran. She stopped a few times to steady her anxious heart as fear gripped her insides. All she had heard from the servant who came to call her, was that her close friend was bleeding and in the King's arms.

Mary knew what that meant, she had gone through the trauma herself. She had gone through a lot of traumas, but losing a child was far worse than being raped. They were just as horrible and heartbreaking and soul-destroying as the other, but the loss of something inside her, under no control, was _horrible_.

"How is she?" She asked once she finally entered Nostradamus's chambers.

She ignored everyone else, her eyes set on Kenna and Kenna only. She sat down and took the unconscious woman's hand, squeezing it tightly as if she was about to disappear from her eyes.

They were _family_.

Francis and Bash didn't know that, but they were more than friends since childhood. Kenna's father was a distant relative of her father's. Back in Scotland, some had rumoured their fathers to be half-brothers, but they weren't.

Cousins thereabouts, blood relations. They shared the same grandparents further up their line, Mary couldn't remember nor did she care. All she knew was that Kenna was family and her friend and her childhood self adored that.

"She lost the baby," she heard someone say, distraught.

That was when she realised, the man sitting across from her was Bash. She couldn't help but feel resentment for him, about to question why he was here, after everything. He didn't deserve that place, Greer or Lola did.

"I have given her something to help her sleep. She was highly distressed," Nostradamus explained. "If you need me, I will be outside."

He left, leaving Mary, Bash and Francis all watching Kenna. All wondering if her next breath would be her last with how uneven her breathing was.

"Francis told me you were with child," Bash said, looking her way. "Congratulations."

"Thank you," Mary replied, using a cloth to clean off the damp sweat on Kenna's forehead. "How did this happen?"

Francis cleared his throat. "Perhaps the stress of all that has happened caught up with her. I saw she was having trouble getting around, she requested to be helped to her carriage. That's when... I saw the blood on the floor. I should have done more."

"How could you?" Bash asked him, shaking his head. "There was nothing to be done." He got up. "I have matters to attend to. When she is awake, have her brought to our chambers."

He left and Mary turned to her husband. She didn't know what to say, she had no words to even comprehend what had happened. At least she could ask Kenna to stay until she recovered and if her friend's heart was still set on Sweden, she would personally go to see her off.

"He doesn't even care," she breathed out. "I saw nothing in his eyes."

"He's confused, Mary," Francis defended his brother. "Bash is not one to admit his feelings so publicly. We were trained as children to keep them to ourselves, our father hated weakness and we never showed him that. Or anyone else for that matter other than..."

"Your wives," Mary finished for him. "I hate to be so insensitive, but I hope our child lives through the third month. I can't help but feel relief and happiness and _hope_. After everything that has happened, this child is our new beginning. Our future."

Francis claimed the seat that was once his brother's, giving his wife a bright smile. "Our child is our future indeed. I can't wait to raise them with you."

"I love you, Francis," Mary said softly.

"And I love you. Let me give you some privacy. I have to return to my duties. I wish I could comfort you-"

"I will be fine. It is not me who needs comfort, it's Kenna. I will be her comfort and so will Greer and Lola. Thank you, Francis, for helping her. She may not see so, but there are still people who care."

He gave her a small smile. "I am one of them."

She chuckled softly, watching him leave as Kenna's eyes opened. She pressed a kiss onto her friend's head and dabbed the sweat away.

"Is it gone?" Kenna asked croakily.

"I am so sorry. There was nothing that anyone could have done-"

"Good."

Mary gasped, eyes wide. "K-Kenna?"

"I will catch the ship to Sweden tomorrow after I've gained more strength. I am sorry, Mary, I cannot remain here any longer. I feel weaker and weaker and it is killing me... Delphine..., she can have him. I have given up hope," Kenna told her. "Hope I can ever be happy again. Hope that he and I could be together again."

Mary's eyes stung with tears. "Do not say that, I beg of you," she said quietly, leaning closer to stare into Kenna's eyes. "Stay here, remain by my side."

Kenna shook her head, closing her eyes as tears slipped down her face. "I cannot. Not whilst he's here."

"He sat with you just moments before," Mary told her. "He still loves you if he was here. Is that not a sign?"

"He was doing his duty as a husband. A husband seen by his ailing wife's bedside will stop any rumours from spreading," Kenna replied sadly. "_In name only_."

"He said that you should be taken to the chambers you shared," Mary added. "He specifically referred to them as owned by you both."

Kenna shook her head. "You're pulling gold out of thin air," she said lightly. "I do not blame you, all I ever hear these days are lies. If it is all the same to you, I'd like to eat something and get out of this bloody dress."

Mary laughed softly, wiping her tears as she helped Kenna stand from the bed. She helped her into a nightgown, leaving her pink-purple dress for the servants to clean for her.

When she was presentable, Mary cupped Kenna's cheeks. "I promise you, you will be happy. Please stay, I need you. I cannot be without you. I know I was willing to help you leave, but you are far too valuable for me to lose."

Kenna was stunned. She had never felt wanted before, until Bash further along with their marriage. Mary was her queen, she was Mary's subject. If Mary had wanted her, it was to perform her duties as a lady-in-waiting, but she was not only that for the Scottish monarch. A distant cousin or thereabouts, a dear friend from childhood.

Before she lost her mother to childbirth of her youngest sibling, the woman would take Kenna and Mary around the gardens with strawberry tarts back in Scotland in their Summer home. They lived modestly and her father had a lot of investments in different trades, building their money to a great substantial amount so they owned quite a few properties to spare. After Mary left, her mother died and Kenna had been shunned by her father, her familiar likeness to that of his favourite cherished wife too much to bear.

Duke Beaton had not wanted her any longer, the pain still hurting Kenna until this day, a decade later. Even when he had heard of her forced marriage, he had not come to rescue her, only sent her dowry which was quickly returned back. She did not know whether to be insulted or not at her husband's haste to return her dowry until he explained that she was worth much more than money could ever be worth to him. Until he no longer wanted her too.

"I know what you're thinking," Mary said softly. "Want and need are two very different things, are they not? I do not only want you, but I also need you. In more ways than ever and more especially now. Now that the child in me will sit on the throne."

"Of course, my Queen," Kenna replied softly, accepting Mary's tight hug. She will have to sacrifice her happiness for the sake of her queen's. It had been done many times before, now was no different.

...

"Oh, dear Lord," Mary heard Catherine cry out, the woman seeing her leaving Bash and Kenna's chambers. "What are you doing up and about? You must be resting, we cannot have a repeat of the last time."

Mary's eyes flashed red. "Of course, not Catherine!" She snapped. "I am a queen, I am fully capable of attending to matters of concern without the need to be bedridden. Unless you want to comfort my lady-in-waiting?"

Catherine scowled at the mention of Kenna. "Yes, I did hear what happened. How unfortunate, but fortunate for you all that I managed to stop such disgusting rumours about the King's bastard brother and his wife from spreading around. Well, see to it that she attends to _you_, not the other way around. You are a queen after all, not a noble's bed attendee."

Mary pursed her lips angrily, pushing down all the words of insult that were about to come from her mouth. If not for Catherine being Francis's mother and her in-law, she would not have stopped herself from humiliating her in front of all the guards, servants and other people that walked by, getting on with their lives.

"Kenna is more than a lady-in-waiting of noble birth," Mary finally said. "She is one of my closest and dearest friends. You do not have those, do you? Women you can trust with your life and secrets?"

"Why would I need friends when I have a crown on my head and they do not?" Catherine asked her as if Mary was a schoolchild scolded. "Friends are not everything. Power is and once people see a queen at her _servant's_ beck and call, they will see weakness and fragility. You must stop that from ever being said about you."

Mary looked as if she had been slapped. She called her friend, _her family_, a servant. She was appalled, but she swallowed her words and walked away. She walked a few metres before stopping and turning to face a curious Catherine.

"She is not just your lady-in-waiting or _friend_, is she?" Catherine asked. "She means something more than Lady Lola and Lady Greer. Even that dead one, dear God what was her name?"

Mary took a deep breath in and released it. "Aylee was her name. Lady Aylee Livingston, a name I will forever hold dear in my heart. You are right, about Kenna being more than those to me. She is my cousin and just as Francis protects Bash, I will protect her. Good day, Catherine - I think this is enough of us seeing each other for the day."

She finally turned back around and walked away. She could feel her tears from the bottom of her throat, but she never released them until she met Francis in her offices, sobbing incoherently much to his surprise.

"Mary, what happened?"

"Your mother - s-she gets to me at times and with this pregnancy, I am feeling more vulnerable than ever," she mumbled against his chest. "I would be arguing with her, but I just had to calm down at times. She knows it's dangerous to rile me up, why must she do so?"

"My mother acts blatantly at times, I'm sorry, Mary," Francis said, cupping her cheeks so she could look up at him. "It isn't her fault, she does not even know she does it. It is how she is, always have been."

Mary wiped her tears. "She said I shouldn't care for Kenna, that it makes me look weak. Shouldn't it make me look stronger that I care for my subjects? That I am willing to overlook their recovery so that they can return and be of service?"

"Would you do that for a handmaiden or a guard?" Francis asked her gently.

Mary stilled. "Well, no... But I will for my ladies-in-waiting. There are not many people we can trust in this castle, but we can trust _them_. It is not easy serving a queen and I have put Kenna in the lion's den to get what I needed. I owe them everything, for using them for my own gain, for using them as comfort and solace... Without them, I would not be the queen before you."

"I understand, my love," Francis said, hugging her. "Although you should not be too dependent on them."

She frowned, pulling away. "As you are on Bash?"

"That is different. It has always been Bash's duty to protect me since I was born," Francis argued softly. "Even if I command him to stand down, he will still be willing to risk his life for the sake of mine."

"Your personal guard dog?" Mary asked, tutting. "That is a horrible way to treat your _family_."

"It's how it has always been, Mary. We cannot change things that have been for years," he replied sadly. "I offered him everything and he rejected them in the hopes of remaining my King's Deputy. Of remaining the one person I can trust with anything in this castle. Do you think a Baron is a higher status than a Duke?"

Mary sighed. "Exactly what I mean. Bash is your friend, your closest confidante after me, your _brother_. He rejected being a Duke to stay closer to you. What bastard brother has ever done that for their king brother? You were lucky. I was not blessed to have such a caring and close sibling as you were. I only have my ladies, so apart from you, I will be dependent on them. Let's not argue, I just want to be in your arms and talk about how much your mother bothers me."

He chuckled, his arms holding her closer to his frame as he rested his chin on the top of her head. "I should cherish this because soon, you will be-"

"The size of a bloated whale. Do not under any circumstances remind me!" Mary cut him off, laughter escaping her lips. "But yes, I will cherish this moment before I cannot even see my feet."

"You will look so beautiful, even more than you are now," he said, receiving a hit in reply. He laughed and continued, "They say women with child _glow_. Well, you are not only glowing, but you are also levitating."

"Oh, Lord, protect me from my husband who seems to go out of his way to make me feel more special than all the women who have given birth before me," she said, looking at him. "Also let him know that I am his and he is mine until our last dying breaths."

Francis did not even reply as he pressed his lips against hers, backing her onto his table and laying her down. He trailed kisses down her neck and began to undo her laces.

"F-Francis," she said his name, laughing when he kissed her nose. "I am sure you have work to do."

"Not until I claim this beautiful woman I call 'wife'," he readily replied, kissing her deeply. "God, you're so beautiful..."

For once, Mary blushed and looked away. She certainly did not feel it every time she emptied her stomach contents. Nor did she feel it when she woke up damp from sweat because of her pregnancy symptoms. Her husband always knew what words to say, how to make her feel better about herself.

"You're so handsome, I don't even know how you chose a woman like me..." She whispered back.

"Easy. I've loved you since we were children," he whispered back. "And I will never stop loving you."

"Neither will I."

...

"Under whose orders exactly am I to remain in my bedchambers?"

Bash looked up from the ground as he made his way to see Kenna. He could hear her complains from a mile away, but he had not put her and the voice together until he neared her and the guards she was glaring at.

"Was it Queen Mary's orders you're acting on?" She continued angrily. "Let me pass-"

"It was mine," Bash said making her still in her position, her arm restrained by one of the guards. "Let her go."

She pulled her arm from the guard's grip and walked back into the bedchambers, Bash following behind and closing the doors. She spun around and crossed her arms.

"What on God's Earth were you thinking? Keeping me locked inside like an animal?!" She yelled at him, sitting down once she felt faint.

"Exactly why I _requested_ that they help you remain inside. You need rest, losing a child is a serious matter. You could have died," he replied, putting his sword down.

"Would you have cared?" She retorted. "I don't need rest. I need to find out what has happened to my belongings and get some food."

"I'll have servants bring you food," he replied easily. "As for your belongings, I have them in my offices."

She scowled. "Is that your plan?" She asked him. "Fine! I don't need anything, the clothes on my back will be enough to get on that ship-"

"I don't want you to leave," he cut her off, walking towards her. When she flinched away, he stopped. "We need to talk."

"I already know what you want to say," Kenna said. "I hope you and Delphine are happy and I will happily see to an annulment of our marriage."

Bash's face fell. "No. No, Kenna..."

Kenna swallowed deeply, looking up to see him fighting a battle inside himself. "W-What do you mean?"

"I do not want an annulment. God, that is the _last_ thing I want, better yet - I don't want one overall. I do not want Delphine either, she saved my life and that is all there is between us. A woman who saved my life and debt I needed to repay," Bash explained.

"How did you repay her?" Kenna mumbled. "Sex?"

"It wasn't _right_. She wasn't _you_." He looked away. "Our first time, you said that I should imagine you whenever I used my fingers for any other task. What we have, that was real and it hurt me a lot when you believed I wasn't enough for you-"

"But you were! If you had allowed me to explain myself, I would have told you that you were!" She cried out, standing up to reach him. She cupped his cheek. "I didn't want Antoine, I wanted my husband. Even when Renaude was about to drive his sword into your back, I chose _you_. I choose you now and forever, no other man will be enough because I had that with you."

He searched her eyes. "I don't know if you're telling the truth or not."

She was stung, but she knew he had reasons to doubt her word. "Yes, I do act in my best interests, but I also act in yours. We do not talk, we lie and we are quick to be in bed every time and it is not healthy. I wanted a husband who would care and provide for me as well as be my solace. Love is not enough for me, I will admit that. You say I lie, but you lie too and your lies sometimes outweigh mine. Take sleeping with Claude for example-"

"We were young-"

"I know, but it still hurt because she saw you differently than as a brother!" Kenna told him sadly. "All along I thought I was the problem, but it was you and what you had with her-"

"There was nothing there-"

"I know," she whispered. "Not only Claude but what you do for Francis and for France. What you do in the woods, the people you meet and the people you kill. That innocent man you branded... And you wonder why I fear my husband is lying dead in the snow or covered by twigs and dirt, never to be found? It did happen too until she saved you. You never let me in and I poured my every being to you. The few moments I don't, you punish me."

He walked away from her, grabbing a cup and wine. He poured the wine and took a desperate sip from the cup.

He couldn't lie, he was blessed unexpectedly with a woman of noble birth and title. After Mary, he could never see himself with another woman let alone marrying them.

His father had been right, the bloody man. What an idea, marrying his bastard to his second official mistress. He bet the man never imagined the pair falling in love.

What King's bastard could ever marry a princess or a lady or woman of high title and birth? It was next to impossible, but his father's madness had allowed him another chance at love.

It was so unexpected and he had been blindsided at the idea of someone waiting for him when he came home. Of someone to keep his bed warm, that was not a lover or a whore. A woman who performed acts in his best interests and even managed to retrieve a family heirloom back for him and keep it lovingly.

The ring was worth next to nothing, the only thing that connected him to the grandmother who loved him dearly. His wife had worn it, not caring about what people had said when they worked out its true worth.

"You are right as much as it hurts to say so. It's the harsh truth and we must face the reality of our actions," he finally said, offering her the cup.

She looked at it stunned before her eyebrows furrowed. He decided to ignore her sudden reaction as if the cup had been poisoned even though she clearly saw him drink from it.

Her fingers reached out. Pale and weak fingers like a spider building a web. They connected with the cup, two fingers landing on two of his.

She could feel the sparks, the pressure building in her stomach as she stared in wonder at their almost fully joined fingers. When the moment became unbearable and tears sprung to her eyes, she quickly grabbed the cup and downed it, hoping it will settle her discomfort.

"What is the reality of our actions?" She fearfully asked him. "Would it mean me on that ship tomorrow?"

"I have already said that you leaving and an annulment is out of the question," he replied. "I may have acted in anger yesterday and I truly hope you can forgive me-"

"I do, I always will forgive you," she quickly said.

He gave her a small smile. "Was it... was it..." He couldn't even get the words out, not that there was evidence to prove her claim. It didn't matter, the baby was gone and they would try again.

"Yes," she whispered softly. "I had dreams of a little you or me. Our brown hair, your green eyes... It's all I ever wanted the first moment we kissed. _You're_ all I wanted."

She placed the cup down and ran her hands over her face and hair. She didn't know what else to say, the silence becoming comfortable and _normal_.

They haven't had 'normal' in a long time. They were stuck in the past and everyone else was moving on. Bash stayed away from the castle more, hoping to not cross paths with her and she had dedicated her time into serving Mary and visiting Greer.

Then Francis asked her if she knew where Bash was and her heart had sunk at the possibility of losing him forever. Of never seeing her green-eyed husband and she went out, in the snow to find him. She had never wanted to bump into Renaude, nor had she expected to feel so lustful after weeks of not being able to bed her husband. Everything happened so quickly and out of her control, there weren't any chances for second goes.

She turned to him. "Do you love me?"

"I do. Do you love me?" He asked, uncertainty in his voice.

She almost laughed at his tone. "I-I..."

She didn't have the words, but she did have the strength to walk up to him and pull his head down so their lips met. She kissed him hard, feeling his arms bring her closer to him. She wanted to let him know _exactly_ what she thought about them in that kiss - that she loved him, that it will always be him.

"Kenna, I've brought some food and-"

They slowly pulled apart and Kenna eyed Mary's beaming face from behind Bash. She smiled softly when her husband nestled his head on her shoulder, her fingers finding his hair.

"I will leave you two alone. Let me-"

"No," Kenna cut Mary off gently. She pulled away from Bash and gave him a small smile. "I need to eat."

He kissed her forehead. "You do. I need to see Leith about something, but you will be here?"

She nodded. "I will," she replied. There was no point in catching any ships to anywhere now. "I-I love you."

"I love you more," his reply came and he took a while before letting go and leaving with his sword picked up on his way.

Mary walked up to her, her smile becoming a grin. "Did I see correctly?"

"What?" Kenna said, blushing. "A man and his wife cannot kiss each other?"

"I am so sorry I walked in. I asked the guards if any servants had brought you food beforehand," Mary said, taking her hand. "Come, you need to rest, but before you do, fruit, nuts, meat... Whichever food you desire, I have brought up."

"Mary, I cannot and will not have you waiting on me," Kenna said. "You're my queen..."

Mary's face fell and she narrowed her eyes. "Did Catherine speak to you?"

"She said she had some advice to offer me about losing..." Kenna closed her eyes and cleared her throat. "She said that it was not right for a queen to be devoted to her lowly lady. Mary, I am your friend, but your subject first. Before my marriage, I am devoted to you."

"I do not need devotees," Mary snapped before her features became sad. "I need people I can trust. No one in Court is truly innocent and I need people I can count on to watch my back, not just Francis."

Kenna nodded. "Mary, I will always be someone you can trust and count on. That is what friends are for and most importantly, _family_."

They were disturbed by the servants entering with the food Mary promised, one saying that it was becoming cold. Kenna couldn't believe it, the food that was being put onto the dining table was more than the food her and her husband ever consumed on a daily basis.

"Eat up," Mary told her. "I need you well because we are entertaining guests from Italy tomorrow."

"Let me guess, more Medicis to please?" Kenna said bitterly.

Mary nodded. "Unfortunately, the castle will be riddled with them. They say it is for Francis's birthday, but who knows what Catherine is scheming now?"

"Catherine tolerates Greer to an extent, maybe Greer can find out why?" Kenna suggested, sitting at the table and starting to eat. "Or even Lola as her first grandchild's mother."

"Now that I am carrying her son's heir, John Phillip does not even cross her mind. Speaking of him, we are still looking for a suitable match for him," Mary replied, picking a cherry from the fruit bowl and eating it, disposing of the seed. "I will find out somehow..."

"I will be here for you, no matter what, Mary," Kenna said. "Will you help me eat all of this? It is like I am a pig you're fattening up for slaughter."

Mary giggled. "Perhaps Bash would fancy that."

"How dare you!" Kenna laughed. It was the first genuine smile she had in ages and she gave Mary a bright smile.


	3. A Stressful Queen

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**Guest (1) [chapter 2]: Thank you! Here's the next chapter :)**

**elder441 [chapter 2]: Thank you for loving their friendship :) They support each other and that is how friends and family should be like. Lola won't be in this story as much, little snippets only but Frary is the main focus.**

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* * *

Mary watched the Medicis, slowly sipping on her cranberry juice. Any other liquid had been sure to come right back up and into the chamber pots so Catherine had suggested the cranberry juice to aid the sickness.

It was sour on her tongue and Kenna gave her a small smile. "Does it taste that bad?"

"The initial taste is lovely until the sourness comes through," Mary said, squinting slightly. "I can't finish this, it is too horrible."

Looking around, Kenna quickly switched Mary's cup with one filled with champagne instead. It made them giggle as Lola and Greer joined them, also getting themselves some drinks.

"You are in higher spirits," Lola stated to Kenna.

Kenna blushed furiously, eyeing her husband who spoke with Francis and one of the Medici men. She could also see Catherine eyeing them from her position with her ladies-in-waiting, but she didn't care about her. She cared for the man whose eyes met hers and sparkled before he was quickly brought back into the conversation he was having.

"Don't say..." Greer gasped, turning to Mary for confirmation.

Mary bit her lip, a smile threatening to breakthrough. She did end up saying, "I saw the pair of them kissing like schoolchildren! I wonder if they reconciled in many ways than one."

Kenna gasped. "Mary! And for your information, we did not make love. I can't, not after..."

She felt hands on her shoulders and her free hand, all soothing and comforting. She had not forgotten the loss she was supposedly glad to have, it still stung her and she and Bash had talked throughout the night about it. It had ended with tears and waking up in each other's arms.

"I can't afford to lose Bash again," Kenna said to them. "I will act on his terms, he's important and I love him."

Lola shared a happy smile with Mary and Greer before her eyes landed on Narcisse a few metres away, lurking behind Catherine's back. Her face fell and she couldn't help but feel jealous about their closeness. She knew they have had relations, it was no secret but she felt used.

"Enough about me..." Kenna trailed off. "Mary, would you like to sit down?"

Mary scoffed lightly. "Am I really at that stage? No one can tell and you are already wanting me to blurt my secret out."

"We are just looking out for you," Greer replied, grinning. "At least some of us can still dance."

She placed her cup down and walked over to a lonesome Leith, holding her hand out. They exchanged a few words, Leith turning to look at Claude before finally accepting Greer's offer.

"What is going on there?" Kenna asked. "Are Leith and Claude involved?"

"I wouldn't know nor will I care," Mary said dismissively. "As long as she is preoccupied and not causing trouble, she can like who she likes."

"I highly doubt Greer will like that," Lola said, uncertainly. She gasped when Narcisse appeared out of nowhere, requesting a dance from her. "My queen needs me."

Narcisse smirked, leaning closer to the three women. "The Queen's peahens are protecting her chick. I am sure she can spare you for one dance."

The colour drained from Mary's face, but she kept her composure and gestured for Lola to accept. It was better to keep him on their side than against them. Relations between the King, Queen and nobleman were improving. Only slightly though. She could have faith that he would not tell anyone else of her pregnancy, but something told her he wanted something in return.

Then there were two and Kenna eyed her husband with longing looks, her husband itching to leave his business to join her too. It made Mary giggle, offering Kenna more drinks so the woman was loose and less uptight.

"Do not frown at my expense, Kenna," she said, linking their arms. "I am sure our husbands would much rather be with us than Medici snakes."

"Our reconciliation is still quite new and sudden," Kenna mumbled. "Actually, I do not feel so well - I may retire to my chambers."

Mary sighed heavily. She could either let Kenna go as Greer and Lola would return soon. Or she could have Kenna stay and they would keep each other company in this sea of untrustworthy snakes. There was only so much conversation one could hold with a tolerated person. Not that any of the Medicis were tolerated by her if not for her husband being half-Medici.

"How unwell are you?" Mary asked her, leading her towards the exit.

"Just some cramps. I believe the miscarriage is playing out, my body returning to its previous state..." Kenna said softly. "How did you do it? Get through that?"

Mary paused when they reached just outside the hall. "It was hard. The excitement was long gone, but the effects still present. Now, I have a feeling that it will be different this time."

Kenna smiled. "Of course it will be. I can't imagine a better mother than you. This child will be very lucky to have you and Francis as parents."

"Maybe one day, you and Bash will have children again."

"I do not want any more children," Kenna confessed uncertainly. "Not after... You are a queen, it is expected of you to bear children. I am just a noblewoman, my husband fights battles for other people... How can we raise a child? What legacy will that child continue? The de Poitiers line from Bash will end with Bash and I feel guilty."

Mary gripped her hands, shaking her head. "You both have the power to be better parents than yours were. To raise a child to be a wonderful person. I know having your child fighting wars that are not theirs won't be the ideal future that you had in mind for them, but if they are happy to do so, shouldn't you count your blessings?

"I was not made to be a mother. I was made to ruin the best things in my life under no control of my own," Kenna replied sadly. "I'd rather have a few nights with Bash than none at all. It is who he is and I can't deny someone who has been independent since his childhood. Who am I to ruin what we have between us? To ask for children that he may rarely see or know? I am a lady-in-waiting, he is the King's Deputy... That is our life now and I need to adjust."

She gently let go of Mary's hands and walked away from her. She had a feeling that she was about to be commanded to turn around and face Mary, but she didn't hear any sounds of disapproval.

Mary opened her mouth to call her. Order her as she had done with Lola long ago, but doing so could hurt their relationship. Both women were selfish and stubborn, but they cared for each other and Kenna was as close to a sister as Mary could wish for.

So Mary let her go and returned back into the hall with a wide smile on her face. She found Greer waiting sadly by the drinks table and she made it her mission to cheer the blonde up, both giggling within minutes of exchanging a few words.

If one friend was sad, she sure as hell will not allow them all to be sad.

Just as Mary was about to say something else, she spotted Francis and Bash walking towards them, Lola meeting the women first. She waited until her husband arrived before pulling him to her side, not minding if anyone saw the slight desperation.

"Finally," she said, under her breath. "I was beginning to think you enjoyed your third cousin's company over mine!"

Francis grinned wryly. "Just sorting out a few deals."

"What deals?" She asked curiously.

"None to be deep in thought about," her husband said.

"Where's Kenna?" Bash asked, looking around for his wife.

Mary turned to him. "She went to lie down."

Bash frowned, excusing himself as Mary returned her sights onto her husband. She smiled at him, offering him something to drink as many other nobles waited to take his attention away.

They couldn't allow the future parents a few minutes alone and Francis took the cup, apologising sincerely before walking off with a German official. It was his duty. King first and husband later.

"I know Catherine has forbidden you from dancing, but what way to show everyone that they may be wrong?" Greer suggested cheekily. "Come along, we will not be too rough."

Mary nodded and followed them into the centre of the hall, raising both her hands for her friends to connect theirs to hers. The dance was normally meant for a woman paired with a man, but Mary didn't care.

They spun around, letting out laughter which made her husband turn to them in amusement, talking but his eyes remained on her.

Despite the crown on her head and her high title, she was just a girl. A girl who loved a boy and she wanted to feel that before that girl and boy became mother and father. After that, there will be no time to be just a girl and just a boy. Permanently, King and Queen and father and mother.

...

Kenna shivered, not bothering to get up to close the windows or pull the sheets over her body.

She couldn't help how she felt, the grief, the trauma, the uncertainty. Her life was confusing from the day she stepped foot in France. From the day she stopped being her father's daughter and someone's wife.

She was free yet not free. A cage of no shape or formation trapped her and she did not know where it came from.

Mary? Her queen's need for her to remain as one of the few people she could trust never put weight on her shoulders. Mary used Bash and Mary used Kenna. Bash was Mary's knight in shining armour and Kenna was Mary's subject.

Kenna could not complain, most royals treated their closest allies unjustly. Mary was her best friend, family even. It was an unspoken deal between them.

Then, where did the cage come from?

"Kenna?"

She slowly sat up, giving her husband a small smile. "Did you tire out the Medici general already?"

"He tired himself out," Bash replied softly, starting to undress. "I'd much rather speak with someone who matters."

"Francis is still downstairs," came her reply, teasing and tired. "I'd rather enjoy the silence."

He got into their bed, bringing her to his side. "Then I will enjoy the silence with you."

He closed his eyes and she looked up to study him. He looked tired and in distress as if he was fighting an inside battle with himself. She never bothered asking what exactly he did outside the castle gates, nor did she want to pry. With his face twitching as if he was reliving a terrible memory, she placed a soft kiss on his neck.

"Maybe the silence is overrated," she whispered in the darkness. "How did it feel?"

"Hmm, what?"

"Almost dying," she asked quietly, tears springing to her eyes as she gripped onto his arm. "I can't imagine what you must have felt. Being alone, bloody and in pain. I-I should have been with you. I never should have been with Renaude, my husband needed me and I failed you-"

"Kenna, you didn't fail me," he said firmly, opening his eyes and looking down at her. "Yes, I was alone and bloody and in pain. The first thing I thought of was Francis, but you were a close second."

She laughed softly, tears running down her cheeks. "How lovely."

"I dreamt of you the second my eyes closed. I could have compared you to a siren, lulling me into your arms..." He looked away, focusing on something in the darkness. "I wouldn't have minded. But I had to live."

"A siren?" She said, pulling away. "A woman luring you to death?"

He frowned then it dawned on him. "No, not a siren per se. I chose the wrong word. An angel... I am not sure if I believe in angels, though."

She smiled a little bit, leaning back onto his chest. "I am an angel?"

"I suppose so. You were my guardian angel and... I missed you," he replied.

"I missed you too," she said, leaning up to kiss him. "There's something I need to tell you. Don't be mad."

He looked down, using his hand to brush her hair from her eyes. "I will never be upset with you or even mad. I love you and whatever you say, we will find a way to work through it."

"Do you mind if... Do you mind not having any children?" She asked quietly, looking at him with wide eyes.

He froze. The thought had never crossed his mind since her miscarriage. Before he was a married man, even before Mary, he had never wanted to be a father. Nor had he wanted to father any bastards.

Then, Mary came along and he was almost a king. Almost a king who would have had to father heirs and that meant having children. After that, Mary had been claimed by Francis, the pair eventually becoming King and Queen of France after Bash had been wedded to Kenna.

They were married, they enjoyed exploring each other and getting to know each other. He liked the idea of someone warming his bed, being the only woman to ever claim him sexually and otherwise. The idea of children never crossed his mind after, he wasn't important so why did he need heirs? Children to give his wife company, perhaps, but now even thought out fully he wanted them.

Bash and Kenna never talked about children until last night, saying how horrible it was to lose it without ever getting to meet them. If he was honest, Bash did consider having children once they came to terms with their loss.

Maybe to strengthen their marriage or to make his wife happy with the idea of parenting after Pascal. He just wanted children, no reason was necessary because the idea of them pleased him. Especially if his beautiful wife was to be their mother. He'd hope they would favour her beauty and his green eyes.

At the end of the day, Kenna was his wife and, he would serve her and please her.

"What do you want?" He asked in return.

"I-I don't want them. Not after..." Tears soaked his chest as she laid her head back onto it, gripping his side. "I'm so sorry..."

He rubbed her back, shaking his head. "It's fine. I don't want them either."

"Oh, thank God," she breathed out, further breaking his heart.

"Thank God, indeed," he croaked out, not realising the tears slipping down his cheeks unwillingly.

...

The next day, Francis invited Bash out for a ride. Charles and Henri had complained of their older brothers' time away from the castle, wanting to join them, but this was a trip for men.

A few miles away from prying ears, emotional wives and stern guards, they got off their horses and walked them over to the river to drink from. It was a peaceful moment, the occasional neigh interrupting it.

"Kenna does not want to have children," Bash finally confessed much to Francis's surprise. He was not one to reveal his secrets or the issues regarding his marriage.

"I-I thought-"

"I thought as well and now, she does _not_ want children," Bash replied, sitting against the tree. "Before Kenna, I never imagined being a father. After Kenna, all I wanted was a child with her features. I dreamt and I wished her with child, every time we... Alas, it was not meant to be until it was too late and now we'll never be the great parents I know we could be."

Francis sat beside him. "I have no words. Are you certain?"

"I lied to her. I lied that I was glad to not ever be a father," Bash said, shaking his head. "I should have told her, but she was upset and I didn't want to push her any further."

"Oh, Lord," Francis mumbled. "You need to tell her the truth. I am sure this is because of your loss."

Bash shrugged. "It does make sense, though. I will never amount to something. I will not be a king or anything else... Why do I need heirs? My uncle can easily remarry and keep the line going, but it will not be from me that my line continues."

"What about your _true_ line, the Valois line?" Francis asked, upset that his brother did not value himself as much as others valued him. "I know you may never be anything of great power, but you are still a man who loves a woman. You should allow yourselves to create something from that love, someone that will love you unconditionally in return. Someone to father better than ours did."

"I am a bastard, why-"

"I'll give you a duchy. Then, you will be required to have at least a child," Francis quickly said. "I will make it the law."

Bash began to laugh, giving his brother an incredulous look afterwards. "Force my wife to bear my children? The same wife who does not wish to carry a child inside her for the remainder of our lives? She will come to resent me. She will resent that child and you for doing that to her."

"Mary will talk to her."

"I have asked already - she could not change her mind," Bash said dismissively. "Kenna is set on the matter. Although, she would not mind the duchy."

Francis let out a chuckle. "I am sure she would not. Perhaps it is a good idea. To gift you both a duchy - I'll give you one of my mother's closer to the Court. Time away will allow her to recover, to rethink and our children will grow up with each other as cousins."

"A beautiful vision, I can't deny. It will not come to pass, unfortunately," Bash replied, closing his eyes.

"If you say so," Francis relented. "But I believe in my instincts and something tells me that she will change her mind once she has grieved what she lost. Children are God's greatest blessings and it is not up to us to reject them if he gifts us with them."

"I hope you're right," Bash smiled a little, the corner of his lips twitching.

As Francis got back up to tend to the horses, Bash remained shaded from the sun. He listened to the wildlife, the flow of the water and the hooves of the horses as they shifted from one place to another.

Just as he became comfortable, he felt something sharp hit his neck. His eyes snapped open and his hand reached up to inspect his neck. He felt nothing, but the familiar stickiness of blood.

"Did you throw something at me?" He asked Francis, but Francis was preoccupied with his horse a few good metres away.

The object that assaulted him was shot at a closer distance.

Using the river to wash the blood away from the small wound, he looked around. He and Francis were the only ones there, but he couldn't deny that since Delphine had arrived, strange things had been happening.

His life had turned somewhat, he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He saw the world differently, perhaps because he was about to die. Things were darker, but not foreign to him anymore.

If someone had said they were under a spell, he would believe them. Things such as these wouldn't have made him bat an eyelid and he would have gone out of his way to disprove them. Now, it wasn't strange to him like the time Claude said Delphine had done something to that servant boy.

Convinced that it must have been a fallen splint from the tree he was under, he got up and went to his horse. He was being absurd, nothing could have been more than it was.

Fixing the collar of his cloak, he mounted his horse and followed Francis away from the lake. It was nothing.

...

Mary turned when she heard a door open. She smiled once she saw that it was Francis, shaking out his hair of mud.

"Mud?" She asked, going over to help him. "Whyever have you mud in your hair?"

He grinned a little. "Henri was upset so he threw mud cakes our way," he replied. "I will need to clean up before I see General Medici."

"General Medici _again_?" Mary asked strained. "Francis, you cannot be too trusting of your mother's side."

"Who says I trust them?" Francis retorted, smiling. "I know what I am doing. We should accept that our uncles and cousins are untrustworthy, always acting in _their_ best interests and not for the good of France or Scotland."

She nodded in agreement. "That is true. Why are you entertaining them? You should be with _me_ and our unborn child."

"I would most happily be with you and our child," Francis said, cupping her cheeks. "I have to keep my mother on our side. There were talks that she was communicating with Elizabeth."

"What?!"

"False claims," Francis quickly said. "I cannot be certain though. My mother has been distant of late."

"Francis, we cannot take this lightly! If your own mother is conspiring against us, what chance do we have against England?" Mary asked him.

Francis kissed her to assure her. "We keep the Medicis happy and our child will have the support they need to claim the throne."

"Just don't... Don't do anything stupid, Francis. The Medicis are more powerful than the Valois, there are not many of you and-"

"I have this in hand," he cut her off, kissing her again. "Do not worry about anything. Just keep yourself from any stress and be happy. Mary, we are having a child! Focus on them, not anything or anyone else."

She hugged him tightly, nodding against his chest. It would be nice to not have to watch her shoulder every minute. Although English radicals could still be willing to kill her and her baby once her happy news was announced.

"Just remember how much I love you," he said to her. "I will always act in yours and our child's best interests. Just relieve yourself of any worry."

"I will... I love you, too," she said softly, a smile on her face.

She had her boy, she was a girl and they were going to get through anything together.

...

Kenna opened her eyes, letting out a yawn when she felt a presence enter the bedchamber. Her brown eyes brightened at the sight of Bash and he was failing awfully at not making any noise.

After the thump of his left boot in the trunk, he cursed much to her amusement. He started blowing out candles on his way over to the bed as he took his clothes off. He was tired, being sidetracked by a guard who had some villagers complaining of their livestock being killed.

He had found the culprits, almost rolling his eyes when they turned out to be hungry foxes. He didn't blame the animals, they did as nature wanted them to do, feed on their prey.

The guilt he felt killing the foxes had forced his eyes away as he slaughtered the family and hoped the villagers were happy to find the rest of their livestock alive and not dead, their blood soaking up the green grass every day.

"Goddamn it," he muttered, tripping when his legs got caught on his trousers that he'd pulled down.

"Does one's husband need help?" Kenna finally said, announcing that she was awake and saw all that had happened.

Bash sighed from his position on the floor. "I apologise. Had to kill innocents today."

Kenna frowned. "People?"

"Foxes."

She smiled a little. "Foxes are innocent? I never would have thought."

"Oh, how the pups stared as I shielded me killing their father and mother... I had to end their lives as well since the villagers would not accommodate them. Had an audience too, very unsettling."

"Get yourself off the ground and into bed so you can tell me all about it," Kenna told him, patting his side.

Bash chuckled to himself, pulling his trousers off and leaving them on the ground as he entered the bed. He pulled the covers over them and kissed her, pulling her on top of him.

"Sebastian!" She gasped out, laughing. "I said we should talk about you murdering a beautiful family, not claim me."

"Can I do both? It is not like we have not multitasked before," he replied, attaching his lips to her collarbone.

"Bash..." She whined.

He stopped, pulling away to see the tears in her eyes. "Did I do something wrong?"

Kenna shook her head, rolling off of him to lay back on her side. She covered her face, tears leaking from her eyes. She wanted to, so badly, but she couldn't.

Their last time was still in her mind before everything was ruined.

"I can't forget our last time," she whispered. "Are you sure you want me?"

He rolled so he was resting on his side, placing a hand on her stomach. "Of course, I want you. I will always want you. I want every part of you, I _crave_ you."

She removed her hands from her face, turning her head to look at him. "You do?"

"Yes, I do."

"Even if I lost our baby?" She asked nervously.

"Even if you lost our baby," he replied, cupping her cheek. "Kenna, I do want children. I am sorry I lied-"

Kenna kissed him, silencing his words. "I want us to try properly, I've had a chance to think things through. I cannot be here, though. Not with all of these bad memories. Henry, Diane, the baby... I need time away. I know you can't leave Francis and I won't ask that of you-"

"Francis has offered us a duchy and new titles," he cut her off. "I accepted the offer because we both need to start anew."

"Are you... Is this real?" She breathed out, sliding closer to him.

He nodded. "It is. I think being away from Court is exactly what we both need. To start a family, to be _normal_. For our happiness... Leaving Francis would be difficult, but long ago I was willing to leave for Paris with you. Kenna, your happiness is all that matters to me. I love you."

"I love you, too. So much," she whispered, kissing him as her hands found his neck. "Thank you."

"Thank Francis," he replied against her lips, making her laugh.

"Perhaps Francis is the one I should be threatened about," she replied, giggling as he flipped them over so she laid on his chest.

He smiled at her small jest. "So my wife thinks she can tell jokes now."

"Your wife needs her husband," she replied, kissing him deeply. "So hurry up and take her."

"Are you sure? It is not that long since you-"

"I'm sure," she said softly. "The only man I want to make love with is you. I'm desperate for your touch."

"We should wait," he replied.

She shook her head. "Please?"

"We should wait," he repeated, playing with her hair. "We have all the time in the world to start a family. We should leave as soon as possible, though."

"Alright," she whispered, kissing him. "I love you."

"I love you more."


	4. A Pampered Queen

**Replies to reviews:**

**Guest (1) [chapter 3]: Thank you so much for your lovely review! The first bit of the chapter is for you :)**

**Guest (2) [chapter 3]: Thanks so much for reading and enjoying it!**

**Guest (3) [chapter 3]: Thanks so very much! Here's the next chapter :)**

**Guest (4) [chapter 3]: I will probably time jump so we can get closer to the arrival of their first child. Yes, I said _first_ because I plan to make them have more children. Not as much as Henry and Catherine did, they'd have their hands full but they will have more children! I hope you enjoy their marriage and parenthood! **

**I will update Unrequited soon for my readers who read that one. It is coming to an end soon so I can focus on ATEOTB, this story. You guys are the best readers and fans in the world.**

* * *

Mary awoke to the sensation of someone rubbing her feet. She sat up, making the hands disappear and she laughed when she saw Francis sheepishly looking at her from the end of their bed.

"What are you doing?" She asked, her laughter becoming soft giggles of awe.

"What do you think?" He retorted, trying to instil some confidence into his voice. "I am helping my wife through this stressful time in her life."

Mary couldn't help but let out a snort, wriggling her toes in front of her husband's face for him to continue. She found it sweet, the blonde idiot. No one had ever rubbed her feet for her, she had no reason for her feet to be rubbed before.

"My feet are not even fat yet," she mumbled as he continued, using the tips of his nails to tickle the bottom of her feet.

She reacted by curling up her feet, giggling. When she was sure he wouldn't attempt to tickle her again, she placed her feet back on his lap. It was relaxing, adorable and she felt stupidly happy.

She felt like nothing bad could happen with Francis by her side, and their marriage as strong as ever. No one could change the strong feelings they felt for each other and she was angry with herself for even pushing Francis away during her traumatic ordeal with the rape. Then Condé became involved and Mary's life had been upturned once again.

But Francis stayed true and loyal, hoping that his wife would return to him one day. Eventually, she had and she showed everyone just how much her husband meant to her, how much she valued him.

He did not need mistresses like Henry because he had all he could ever want or need with her. His wife. His _queen_.

"I wish I could stay," she said, yawning. God, she felt tired a lot more now. "I promised the girls a day of sourcing the best materials for our dresses."

"For what?" Francis asked, playing with her toes.

She smiled a little. "A celebration in a month and a half's time."

"Whose?" Francis feigned curiosity. "Is it for anyone I know?"

She raised an amused eyebrow. "I think you know him. He's handsome, blonde and his eyes... God, his eyes can send me melting onto the floor with one glance."

"What man has my wife melting onto the floor?" Francis asked, a smile making itself known on his face.

"I don't know..." Mary trailed off daringly. "He's a king. A really handsome and just king. I do not know if he has a queen though."

"If he is as just as you say he is, there must be a strong woman behind that. A king like him will have a beautiful queen," Francis replied, his eyes staring intently into hers. "A beautiful queen who is the most wonderful person he knows and she has a kind soul. I am certain she would be a good mother should they have children, of course."

Mary blushed furiously, tears springing to her eyes. "They are having children."

"They are?" Francis asked, smiling softly. "I am happy for them. Ecstatic, even."

"Sadly, they are not just a boy and a girl and their child will be scrutinised by so many people," Mary said quietly, breaking eye contact. "I wish they were just a boy and a girl so their child could live a life free of any threats and seas of snakes."

By the time she looked up seconds after, her husband was right in front of her. She placed her forehead against his and sighed wistfully.

As much as she could bear the weight of a crown on her head, she could not bear having her child affected in any way that could hurt them. Guards would have to be increased and only the people they trusted would be able to see and tend to their baby. Could they even trust the governesses and the nannies?

"We should take some time away from Court," Francis suggested. "A month away."

"As much as I'd love to, we cannot," Mary told him, placing a hand on his cheek to which he placed his over her own. "France and Scotland need us, they will always need us and we must protect them." Tears clogged her throat and she let out a shaky breath. "Ignore me, my pregnancy has made me so emotional."

"Do not apologise," Francis said, kissing her lips. "Scream, rage, do what you wish because you can. I understand, my love, I do!"

She looked into his eyes. "Maybe a month away?"

"I have told you about the duchy I gifted Bash and Kenna. Perhaps they might be willing to accept two guests this soon?"

"The King and Queen of France and Scotland?" Mary asked gently. "I doubt it. They may want a bit of time alone-"

"The duchy is big enough for the four of us. I know you would worry about Kenna's welfare as she will worry about yours," Francis cut her off gently. "It will give us all a chance to recover and strengthen our marriages. What do you say?"

She smiled brightly. "I say you tell your brother he's going home sooner rather than later," she replied, kissing him as she pulled him on top of her. "But before you do..."

...

Kenna bit her lip, crossing her arms as she stood across from her husband, a particular item of his in her grip.

"Kenna, please," Bash begged her, moving to get on the bed to reach her on the other side of their bed.

She backed away, shaking her head. "No. Just one day, Bash. One day to spend with me and not solve everyone else's problems."

"I do have other pairs, you do realise that?" Bash asked, but she already had thought about that.

"I would like to see you try and attempt to unlock that trunk," she told him. "Especially as you do not have the key to do so."

Bash cursed, giving his wife an annoyed look. "Kenna, the sooner I solve this issue, the sooner we can do whatever you wish for us to do."

She laughed, heading towards the windows. She opened them and hovered his boot outside.

"Me or boring nobles? Choose wisely, husband," she said, wriggling his boot in front of him.

"Fine, I choose you," he said, admitting defeat and pulling the sheets down the bed. "Are you going to close those windows and join me?" He asked as he got into the bed.

Kenna beamed, throwing his shoe onto the ground of their bedchamber. She closed the windows and hurried into the bed to kiss him hard.

"What a wise decision," she told him, hugging him tightly. "I just need you to be mine for a little bit, alright?"

"Kenna, you know it is you that I'll come to, always," Bash replied, kissing her head. "I will be _your_ knight in shining armour."

There was a knock on the door and Kenna groaned as Bash got up to answer it. She pulled a face when he sent her an apologetic look as he opened the door.

"Bash," Leith said, eyeing his feet. "Why do you only have one-"

"Don't ask," Bash cut him off. "It's a long story that involves me running around a bed and almost losing my shoe to the ground outside."

Leith grinned. "Marital issues?"

"Of the sort," Bash said, eyeing an insulted Kenna. He returned his gaze to Leith. "I can't make it. Whatever it is, deal with it on my behalf."

"The guards will only listen to you or to Francis," Leith explained. "And Francis is busy with Mary."

"See?" Kenna's voice rang out. "Even Francis took a day off for his wife!"

Bash forced a strained smile at Leith's way. "Thank you very much," he said through gritted teeth.

"Did I cause some marital discord?" Leith asked him, feigning innocence. "Forgive me, my Lord. It is just that I cannot get the jobs done without your authority."

"You have it. I will write the guards a message that you are acting on my orders," Bash replied, rubbing his head. "If you come across more crossroads, I beg of you, do not send for me."

"If you do, I will hurt you in more ways than one!" His wife called out from behind him. "You are dismissed, Leith Bayard."

Leith snorted but he quickly made his exit, before he stopped and realised that he had no message to take with him. He watched as Bash quickly scrawled something down and took the message before Kenna could threaten his life even more.

"Where were we?" Kenna asked breathily when he joined her once again. "I believe we were cuddling."

"And being sickeningly romantic?" Bask retorted lightly. "Dear God, what did I get myself into again?"

He laughed when Kenna hit him. Of course, he loved her very much. She was his forever, he couldn't have been luckier to marry such a woman like her.

She was independent, fierce, she spoke her mind and she was spirited. Too spirited and happy and it made him happy as if she was a contagious illness. Despite her flaws, he loved her with all of his heart and one day, they will share that love with a child.

"Have I told you about my grandmother?" He asked his wife.

She shook her head. "No. I do wear her ring though," she replied, holding her hand to her eyesight. "A beautiful item that I am glad and honoured to wear."

"Jeanne de Bartarnay. Or Jeanne Anastasia de Bartarnay... I was the only one to ever call her Anastasia," he said.

"Why?" Kenna asked, smiling softly.

"I was her only grandson. My great-grandmother, her mother, called her Anastasia too. She died when I was very young, but my memories of her are very fond..."

Kenna kissed his cheek. "I can tell," she whispered. "She must have been a large part of your life."

"At times she protected me from Henry when I was four. Not that my father could hurt me until the time when he threatened to kill me," he confessed.

"What?" Kenna breathed out. "Our wedding day?" She realised, knowing that their vows at swordpoint wouldn't have been the only time the king tried to harm her husband.

"Yes," Bash said. "I had saved Francis's life. He is my brother, I will always protect him no matter what is happening between us that pull us on different sides. Father was not happy, he had sent guards to kill me on the day I was meant to go to Spain. Francis stood in front of me the minute he drew his sword my way. I had accepted death then."

Kenna shook her head in disbelief. "I am glad he's dead. I know he was your father, but plotting to have his son murdered unless he married his mistress is awful! Just abominable! And what he did to me..."

"I thought if my grandmother was there, she would have given him what for, despite the crown on his head." Bash smiled sadly. "Now I have you fighting my corner. Fighting for my life, protecting me when I do not look over my shoulder as well as I should."

"Of course," Kenna said to him. "You're my husband and I will always protect you." She kissed him. "If we have a daughter, I would love to name her after your grandmother."

Bash kissed her lips then placed a quick kiss on the tip of her nose which made her giggle. "I would love that. You are amazing."

"And you have potential," she teased, receiving his fingers tickling her side as she squealed. "We better start packing if-"

"Bash I have a request," Francis said, entering their bedchamber and cutting Kenna off.

The couple stayed as they were as Bash rolled his eyes, sending his wife a 'help me' look. She chuckled, turning to Francis who needed her husband.

"And that is, brother dearest?" Bash asked him.

"Mary and I need time away from the castle. I was hoping you would entertain guests at your new home this soon," Francis said, sitting at the end of their bed.

Kenna nodded excitedly. "That is fine! Oh, I can show Mary around and it will be lovely! I hope there are gardens. Are there gardens?"

"Yes," Francis replied, laughing at his brother's expression. "And no, we won't disturb your private time. What you and your wife get up to will not be any of our business."

"Francis..." Bash warned. "But yes, you both are welcome."

Francis beamed happily. "We leave in two hours."

"What? I can't pack in two hours!" Kenna said, getting out of the bed and heading to her wardrobe. "Two hours is not enough time!"

"I will have servants to help you," Francis said, playfully rolling his eyes. "Let me leave, we will meet in the courtyard by then."

Watching his wife rush around, choosing the best dresses to bring along, he started to laugh. His brother had left and she still seemed as flustered as ever, searching for pairs of heels in one of her trunks and throwing his boots out of the one she unlocked with a key.

"Your breasts?" He asked, seeing where she'd placed the key. "I should have known."

She grinned, throwing him a mischievous look. "I hope that is not the only thing you love about me."

"I can show you exactly what parts of your body I love," he told her, slipping out of the bed and grabbing his other shoe to put on. "But we have to pack."

"We do. Now, start packing already!"

Bash looked around. He spotted a few discarded clothing on the ground that was clean, the ones he had tried on and thrown down after his wife had rejected his clothing styles that morning.

He gathered them up and threw them in a trunk, pushing it towards the doors. "Done."

"For the love of the God we serve!" She cried out, heading to his trunk. "You are the laziest man I know."

"I resent that," he replied, grinning. "Is my wife going to fold my clothing?"

"No. Her husband will do that _himself_," she replied, slamming a shirt against his chest. "And she will forbid the servants from helping!"

"Fine," Bash said, watching her return to her jewellery and shoes. "I love you."

She looked up from the trunk, a soft smile on her lips as she turned to him. "I love you more."

...

Kenna couldn't believe her eyes. They looked side to side and she titled her head in slight confusion.

"Catherine had _all_ of this and she barely spent any time here?" She asked, turning to Francis as he helped Mary out of the carriage.

"She used it to entertain guests," Francis replied. "Shall I give you all a tour, Duchess?"

Kenna bit back a smile and nodded. She accepted her brother-in-law's other arm as Bash followed behind the three.

"It comes with a winery," Francis explained as they walked on.

"A winery?" Mary repeated. "Your mother had a winery?"

He gave her a wry smile. "You can probably imagine how much convincing I had to do to have her give it up. A few farmlands surrounding it, we passed one earlier. It also has its own chapel."

"Francis, this is too much," Kenna said as they entered the chateau. "A winery, farmlands and chapel?"

"And its own lake," Francis added quickly.

Kenna turned around to give her husband wide, excited eyes. "A lake!"

"It is perfect for raising a family," Francis said, giving Kenna a smile. "And Bash doesn't need to worry, it has a stable nearby."

"As if that is the only reason I accepted your offer," Bash replied, folding his hands behind his back. "It is Kenna's approval you need."

"You have it!" Kenna told them, almost squealing as she looked around. "Oh, I've always wanted a large estate."

Mary turned to her. "I thought you wanted nobles to bow down at your feet?" She teased her friend.

Kenna blushed. "Well, some things have changed..."

After the tour, Kenna settled inside the master bedchamber. She was surprised to see a wardrobe full of new dresses and heels, all in her size. They were made from the finest of materials; silks, laces and velvet. _Velvet_.

"Do you like them?" She heard her husband's voice ask.

She turned to see him closing the door behind him. "H-How?"

"Francis," Bash replied, rolling his eyes. "If I didn't know better, I'd think he was courting _you_."

"We can't think that!" Kenna replied, tutting. "Because it's you he always calls," she teased, pulling a dress out from the wardrobe. "My favourite colour - lilac."

Bash smiled softly. "It's beautiful. Only the best for my wife."

"This must have cost a pretty fortune, though," she said, disheartened. "If they were gifts, we cannot accept them all. Not whilst children are out there starving."

She sat down on the chaise, the dress still in her hands. She thought of Pascal, how the boy must have lived before he was in their care. He could have had days when he wondered if he was going to eat or not. Days when he was watching his back for survival.

"The workers and farmers, do they have children?" She asked suddenly.

"They do," came her husband's reply.

She beamed. "I do not think Catherine was humble enough to treat them well whenever she stayed. We should host a party for them. As a 'thank you' for being under our employment."

Bash was surprised. His wife surprised him every single day. He had called her selfish, but her selfless side always came at the most peculiar of times. And unexpected, of course.

"I think that is a wonderful idea," he finally said.

"Can we afford all of this?" She asked fearfully. "I never did ask. We aren't used to such vast amounts of living, are we?"

He chuckled. "No, we're not," he agreed. "We can."

"Not through Francis, I hope?"

"You do not need to worry about-"

"Bash... The last thing I want is to argue about wealth with you," she said softly.

He gave her a smile, sitting beside her. "I have made some enquiries. I took on a land mine, it is very profitable and we have other means."

"So we can afford to live like this?" She asked hopefully. "I do not want us to live outside our means. I will be happy as long as you're my husband and with me."

Bash placed his hands on her cheeks, his thumb brushing over her lips. "You're a duchess, my love. You worry about nothing and I will look after you," he replied, slipping her hair behind her ears so he could kiss her lips. "And yes, nobles will bow down at your feet now."

"Oh, be quiet!" She giggled, hugging him tightly. "I want to ride a horse," she mumbled against his chest.

He looked down at her. "Do you even know to mount one?"

"Yes! My older half-brothers taught me as a girl!" She replied excitedly, looking up to see him. "Football was not the only boyish thing I did. It was part of our lessons with our governess. My childhood was very fruitful."

"Our future children will have the best childhood," he said to her.

"They will," she agreed. "Thirty minutes."

"Until what?"

She grinned. "Until we go horseriding, silly!"

"You are serious?" He asked, startled.

She gave him an annoyed look. "Some things I kept secret because they were too painful for me to reflect on, but I was a skilled horse rider. I loved the outdoors too. After my mother's death, I was suddenly the lady of the house, and I grew up quickly looking after my younger siblings. I had no time to have fun until I followed Mary to France."

"That's why you were... let's say _excitable_," Bash replied, taking her hand. "Kenna, you are my wife. Your father can't hurt you."

"He does not hurt me, his sad gazes do..." She trailed off sadly. "Looks of wanting, of pain, of grief and sadness... My mother may have been his second and last wife and she meant the world to him. I couldn't help that I was her spitting image. She was the most beautiful woman I knew from what I can remember."

"Secrets make us who we are. Not all of them we will reveal to each other. When we are ready, it will be the right time. Do not be forced because we are wed," he told her. "I love you, no matter how much you keep from me. As long as your secrets do not damage our marriage."

She gave him a nod. "They won't. I love you," she whispered.

"I love you more. Now and forevermore," Bash replied readily as he kissed her lips. "I will meet you downstairs," he said against her lips.

He left her alone and she smiled happily, liking herself to a schoolgirl. He was so sweet, so caring. What a great difference to how their marriage started off the first time with Henry threatening them madly throughout their vows for life. Who would have thought she would end up with the most handsome, humble, kind, strong and brave man like Bash?

God had blessed her indeed.

...

"Bash?"

Bash turned away from his horse to send his wife an acknowledging glance. He turned back to his horse then stopped, turning back to his wife once again with his eyes as wide as plates.

"Kenna?"

Kenna spun around for him, showing off her horseriding outfit. "Do you like it?"

Bash looked her up and down a few times before settling on her face. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. Most women wore dresses, his wife was wearing leather _breeches_. She had boots on, up to her knees and heeled and she held a pair of brown leather gloves in her hands that matched her breeches and boots.

"Sebastian!" She called him, crossing her arms as her lips settled on a frown.

"Beautiful," he managed to get out. "I have never seen you wear breeches, Kenna."

She grinned. "I did say I was an expert rider."

"We will see about that," he replied. "Where did you even get these clothes from?"

She shrugged. "I have always had them. Never felt the need to wear them until now. Come along, close your mouth or you will catch flies," she told him, getting onto her horse with ease.

"Oh, alright," he mumbled, getting on to his horse once he saw that she did not require his help to mount her stallion.

She was already heading out the stableyard as he was settling himself on the horse, still shaking his head in slight awe and disbelief.

"Wait for me!" He called out, making her turn and grin.

"I don't think I will. After all, we are seeing who is the more skilled rider..." She trailed off, kicking her horse into a gallop rather than a trot.

He laughed, quickly following after her. His wife never failed to surprise him.

Inside the chateau, Mary accepted a letter presented on a silver tray from one of the servants. She thanked him, dismissing him straight after.

She was surprised to see the familiar handwriting of Kenna's father, the same father who more or less disowned his daughter. Had Kenna informed her father of her life? But how could he have known so soon?

"Oh, you have it," Francis said, entering their temporary bedchamber. "I received that back at Court. It was addressed to you, so I thought you'd receive it once we arrived."

Mary gave her husband a bright smile as she lazed on the chaise, opening the letter up with a delicate hand.

[_Dear Queen Mary of Scots, _

_I write to enquire to you about my daughter, Kenna. I have tried to begin communications with her, but she has rebuffed my attempts. She even went as far as ignoring her brothers and sister. Her sister is to be wed to a Frenchman in a year's time. I will need her to be trained for the last bit of her training as a wife and I believed my eldest daughter could support her. Paisley is only fourteen, she does not know all the lessons about being a wedded wife. __I apologise to call upon you, our queen, for such a trivial matter, but I find myself contemplating what would have happened if I protected Kenna. If I had stopped that king from marrying her off to his bastard. The only thing I know of this man is that he is a man of the people. Whatever that means, I do not know. All I want if for him to treat my daughter well and with the respect she requires. She is still her mother's daughter after all. I digress. If you could take it upon yourself to ask your lady-in-waiting if she will house her sister in hers and her husband's home, I will be much grateful, Your Majesty._

_Much sincere love, Your Majesty. Duke R. A. Beaton of Clan Beaton of Castle Barton and Scotland._]

Mary blinked back tears, looking up at her husband. "Have I told you about how Kenna and I met?"

"No, you haven't," Francis replied, wondering why she was suddenly overwhelmed with tears.

"We were two. I had pulled her hair, yet she refused to cry about it. She instead gave me the rose she had collected from her mother's garden. It was not the first gift I had received, but it was the most cherished one. Every day, I stared at that flower. My little hands gripped it until it died and I felt the grief and sadness from its loss. Kenna gave me another one and another one. She kept giving me roses until my chambers were filled with loose flowers everywhere. I was the most content girl in the world. Not a queen, a _girl_. She was the first one to make me feel like a girl..."

She felt Francis's lips on her head and she leant into his chest, handing him the letter. She watched him read it and he turned to her, kissing her head again.

"Kenna's sister is coming to France. Do you think she will approve?" He asked.

Mary nodded. "Her younger siblings were everything to her. She raised them, her mother had died when Paisley was only three and Lachlan, a newborn. How will this work? She and Bash are starting a family, they will be here most of the time and her sister will unsettle things."

"They will work it out," Francis assured her. "Maybe she could also fix things with her father."

"Now, that will be difficult to do," Mary said, sighing. "They are both as stubborn as each other, but her father is a very no-nonsense man. He may be feeling lonely. Or even worse, be sick! If he's writing to her with desperation and an excuse, he may be covering things off. I do not want Kenna to regret not making things right with him, he's the only father she has and parent she has left."

"Do not stress yourself out worrying about it. Let Kenna decide what she will do," Francis said. "Do not decide for her."

Mary relented, relaxing her mind as she closed her eyes. She rested her head on his lap and she smiled to herself.

"I tire easily. I wish I could sleep all day," she mumbled, yawning. It was not even evening.

"You can. That is the amazing thing about being away from the Court. Just sleep. Get as much rest as you can because once our child arrives, we will be watching them as they sleep every day."

She turned so she could manoeuvre her head to look at him. "Yes, we will. Our little prince."

"Or a princess."

"You really want a daughter and not a son?" She asked surprised. "What about us protecting our lines and thrones?"

Francis shrugged in indifference. "I have a great feeling we will be surrounded by many children, Mary. Girls, boys, we will have them and love them. I do not care for the order they come in at. Elizabeth of England was the second child and daughter of her father and she is queen."

"Not for long," Mary whispered uncertainly.

"No, not for long," her husband replied. "Either way, I will be glad to be a father."

She sighed sadly. "But our child won't be your first child, will they? We cannot forget that you publicly claimed Lola's son despite our tries to have Lord Julien father him. Was it because you did not believe I could bear you a child after all the times we have tried?"

"Mary, do not doubt your-"

"It is, isn't it?" She asked, sniffling. "You claimed John Phillip because you believed I could never be pregnant."

"Mary, God no!" Francis cried out, almost making her jump. "I claimed him because I believed it was the right thing to do. You see how everyone treats my brother because of what he means. My father claimed him, never gave him a name and people tried to have my flesh and blood killed because of that. Then when he is almost a king, more people come to hurt him. I just did not want the same for John."

"He would have been protected, though!" Mary replied. "Julien would have protected him, made him his heir... Why, Francis? Why would you hurt our marriage, our reign?"

He sighed, rubbing his face. "I have no explanation. I am sorry, I acted just as my father did, no matter how you look at it. Once his marriage proposal is sorted out, he won't overrule our children in any way."

"You've legitimised him," Mary reminded him. "He will have a claim-"

"He won't-"

"You can't be sure," she mumbled. "As much as I care for Lola, I can't have John Phillip harming our unborn child's future. H-He has to go."

Francis looked away. "I will see what I can do."

"I know he is your son and you will be upset, but I can't bear any more unexpected news," she told him. "I can't bear any nasty surprises."

He pressed his lips against hers. "And you will never bear them," he told her. "You are my future, our child is my future. You both are all that counts to me. John will always be my son, and perhaps it is safer if he is away from the Court. Lord knows who is out there to harm my children."

"Thank you," Mary whispered. "I'm so sorry-"

"Don't be. It's the right thing and one day, he will return and I can get to reconcile on better terms."

She smiled happily, settling herself into a comfortable position. It wasn't long until her eyes closed and soft snores left her mouth, the sensation of her husband's fingers weaving through her hair.

Their family was already stronger than they thought.


	5. A Button For The Queen

**Replies to reviews:**

**Guest (1) [chapter 4]: Haha, it is! Here is more sickeningly sweet stuff for you.**

**Guest (2) [chapter 4]: Here's more spoiling of a king to his wife ;)**

**elder441 [chapter 4]: The reason why I focused on Kennash for the beginning is that they won't be present as much for the rest of the story. It set the scene for their departure from the castle. I've basically put Bash on early retirement, haha. This chapter is all Frary goodness.**

**Guest (3) [chapter 4]: As of now, Francis is taking the chance to spoil his wonderful wife. I am even jealous haha. I am time jumping a bit for the birth of their first child, so if it's rushed, it is to get to the good stuff where we can see the couple raise their child. Then, Mary will return the favour for what her husband has sweetly done for her.**

**BlerBlerBler [chapter 4]: Frary is all in this chapter :)**

* * *

_Four Months Later_

Four months.

Mary was now just over four months pregnant and she could not deny the fact that she was blossoming in weight and shape. Catherine had been the first to announce the impending arrival, many nobles congratulating the happy couple as they sat on their thrones.

After the second hour of accepting words of congratulations, Mary was starting to feel restless. Her eyes were almost closing and she gave Francis a desperate look.

Before he could act, Catherine came in view and ordered everyone to leave before turning to Mary.

"How are you feeling? I should have known this would be too much for you," the dowager queen said to her.

"Catherine, I am fine. I can-"

"No, you must rest. I am sure Francis agrees with me," Catherine said, turning to her son.

Francis relented. "Yes, you should rest."

Mary turned to him. "Will you join me soon?"

"As soon as I am done here, I will be with you," he promised her.

Accepting his promise, she stood up and walked down the steps. She could see the long queue of people waiting to congratulate the expecting parents and something about it was daunting.

As she walked by, she smiled when people bowed and congratulated her on her way. Rounding the archway, she sighed in relief and gestured for Greer to follow her.

"Are you alright Mary?" Greer asked, quiet enough for the queen to hear.

Mary nodded. "I am. I just couldn't sit still for too long. My back aches and my feet feel heavy."

"I am sure Francis can easily put a stop to both of those things-"

"Greer!" Mary cried out, her cheeks reddening. "We have been unable to keep our hands off each other, though..."

Greer giggled, sighing wistfully as she linked her arms with Mary's. "Everyone's moving on with their lives. Kenna and Bash at their duchy, Lola and John in Italy, you and Francis with the new baby... I can't stop thinking about Aloysius's children. How scared they must be."

Mary gave her a sad smile. "I am sorry there is nothing we can do for now. I am sure their aunt is taking good care of them."

"I might join them in Germany," Greer said, eyeing Mary briefly before her gaze reached the ground. "I would hate to leave, but I made a vow before God and those children are as good as mine now."

Mary faltered, her face falling. First Kenna, then Lola and now Greer. She had not expected her friends to be leaving her during her pregnancy. She still had Francis, at least.

"You are relieved from your duty and oath to me," she said quietly.

Greer's eyes widened and she turned to Mary in shock. "Mary, I am only entertaining the idea - I do not mean I would leave you-"

"I can't always put my needs before others'," Mary cut her off. "I need you, yes, but you need to live your own life."

"What if I were to bring the children here? I won't have to leave you," Greer suggested. "Germany is too far and I would love to see your child."

Mary hid a smile, bowing her head as a noble curtseyed as they continued to walk. "I would love it if you saw my child as well and I will have arrangements to bring the Castleroy children here."

"Mary, you are too kind. I don't know how to thank you!" Greer said, looking around quickly to see if anyone was watching before she hugged Mary. "Let's get you to your bedchamber."

Mary gave her blonde friend a smile, linking their arms once again as they continued on.

...

That night, Mary was awake as Francis laid asleep beside her. She had felt unsettled and she was uncomfortable, any other way she tried to settle herself in the bed.

Her back was stiff and she craved something to eat. It was late, nearly one. No one will be awake except the few servants that emptied the chamber pots and most of the guards.

After the seventh time of her huffing and puffing in annoyance, her husband awoke, turning to her in the darkness. He didn't have to see her eyes to know if she was awake or not, he could hear it.

"Mary, what is wrong?"

"It's awfully quiet, isn't it?" Mary asked, disregarding his question.

Francis smiled softly. "Not for long. Our children will soon scream down the castle," he replied tiredly, stifling a yawn. "Get back to sleep, my love."

Mary huffed again. "I can't sleep! What do you think the servants do at this time?"

"I don't know," Francis replied, shrugging. "Mary, what is wrong?"

She scowled. "My back. These pillows are just awful and what is that smell? It's been bothering me since I woke up... yesterday."

Francis let out an amused snort, sitting up to bring her into his side. "Do you want me to search for better pillows? Perhaps duck feathers?"

"Would you?" Mary asked hopefully. "Oh, Francis!" She hugged him tightly. "And some pomegranates. And plums. Oh, with some strawberries too?"

Francis nodded at all of the requests. "As my queen commands."

"Your queen also wants her husband back in bed soon. Ask the servants if it is not too much trouble."

"'Too much trouble'?" Francis repeated. "Mary, you're the queen."

Mary blushed, giggling. "Oh, yes. I forget myself sometimes."

"I believe that is called something I can't quite remember. My mother was forgetful at times during her pregnancies. Once, she bathed naked in the lake when she was expecting Charles."

Mary gasped, grinning at the new information about her mother-in-law. "You lie!"

"I do not! It was quite a sight for Father to hide my eyes along with Bash's when we went camping with him. The days he was a father to us..." Francis trailed off, shaking his head. "I will be right back."

After a while, Mary learned that Francis had gone on a quest for the items himself. The thought of her husband personally attending to her needs made Mary's eyes water.

She felt selfish, but people would say that they were happy to do it. She was carrying the future monarch inside of her.

Smiling to herself, she placed a gentle hand on her growing stomach and rubbed it.

"Hello, my little one. What should we call you because we can't keep calling you, 'baby'?" She asked thoughtfully. "Bean? Bun? Oh, I don't know. Your father is better at this than me..."

A while later, Francis finally returned with an assortment of fruit on a silver serving tray and four pillows, two carried by a guard each behind him.

"I do not want to know how you balanced all of those!" Mary said, laughing as he placed the tray on her lap and got the four pillows, thanking the guards for their help.

After the guards had left, he turned to Mary. "They found me with the pillows tied around my legs with rope. I am grateful that everyone is asleep and could not witness my heavy burdens."

"I am so sorry-"

"I loved doing it, Mary," Francis cut her off, kissing her as he stole a piece of fruit without her knowing. "I may be a king, but I will always bend the knee to my wife."

Mary stared at him in awe. This man was a dream, she was sure she was dreaming. No one could be this amazing, this caring, this sweet. She had been lucky, really lucky because no one could be this amazing or could ever exist.

That was her Francis. Looking out for other people than himself.

"Francis?" She breathed out, staring into his eyes. "Thank you."

"You're always welcome, Mary," came the blonde's reply, placing a kiss on her forehead. "I love you."

"I love you, too. And I love our little Button."

Francis smiled. "Button?"

She nodded, shrugging a little. "We should give it a name for now. Baby is so boring. Until we know what Button is, they will be called as such. Only by us."

"Alright," he replied, placing a loving hand on her bump. "Hello, Button. It is your papa speaking. I want you to know that your mama and I love you very much. We cannot wait to see you."

"We really can't," Mary added happily. They were past the three-month wait. She could not lose her child now unless something awful happened before she gave birth or after.

"I received word from Bash," Francis said, looking up from her bump to look at his wife. "Kenna's with child."

Mary stared at him in shock. She felt slightly upset that her friend could not tell her from her own lips or even write to her. She pushed those feelings down and beamed happily.

"Is she?" She breathed out, carving out her pomegranate. "How far along is she? Do they know?"

"A week," Francis revealed. "She doesn't know yet."

Mary frowned. "What do you mean?"

"One of their servants had her chamber pot tested and told Bash out of the blue. Kenna had gone for a morning ride and well, he does not know how to tell her."

"How do you mean?" Mary asked, perplexed.

Francis sighed. "Kenna does want children, but not this soon though. She is not ready. Especially with her sister living with them..."

"Oh," Mary said sadly. "Well, we should invite them soon for a visit. I know they are happy in their own home, but I feel like they shouldn't forget us."

"I'm sure they remember us!" Francis laughed. "They are not that far as well. Only two hours ride."

Mary scowled. "Two hours is too far!"

"Two hours seems like an eternity for pregnant women," Francis jested, eating some strawberries and feeding one to her. "So dramatic, you women."

"Francis!" Mary gasped out, protecting the rest of her fruit. "If you are not going to help me indulge in them by feeding me, then leave my food alone!"

"So protective," Francis said, holding a hand to his chest. "I wish for a midnight feast."

She tilted her head. "Find yourself some then. Leave my own well alone! It is for Button as well."

"Greedy Button," Francis replied lightly. "First my wife and now my food? Very diplomatic, you are already," he said to her bump. "I hope you hear me-"

"I hope Button doesn't!" Mary laughed. "Your papa is so rude, is he not? How dare he judge our eating efforts." She placed a hand on her bump and proceeded to pretend that she was listening to it. "You think he should sleep on the ground? I do so too!"

Francis gaped, but he was swatted away by one of Mary's extra pillows. He ended on the chaise instead, giving her a playful scowl.

"I will return," he told her.

His wife beamed in triumph. "I'd love to see you try!"

As she finally fell asleep an hour later, she unconsciously sought the warmth of her husband. Her hand kept coming up unsuccessful and finally relaxed, soft snores coming from Mary's lips.

Francis, who had been watching his wife sleep for the past few minutes, stood from the chaise. He made himself at home under the covers in their bed and gently coerced his wife's frame to lie on his chest as he laid against his pillows.

She sighed happily and he smiled in return, placing a kiss underneath her hairline.

That night, he fell asleep with his hand on her bump and his other arm wrapped securely around his beautiful wife.

...

_Three Months Later_

Confinement.

Mary was now confined to her bed at seven months gone, unable to do any of her duties for the foreseeable future. She had been upset, an urgent calling to Scotland plaguing her mind as Francis assured her that he would see to it.

She trusted her husband, but some things were better off done by yourself.

Mary was a lone wolf these days, her only company being Francis and Catherine. She knew Catherine was not loyal, exchanging secret notes with England behind her own son's back. The King and Queen knew, but they were waiting for more evidence to condemn her. Not that Francis wanted to, she was his mother and that was probably why they were waiting on more evidence despite having all they really needed.

Kenna was now three months pregnant. She and Mary exchanged letters every week; words of excitement, fears, worries, longing and hope laced in every word sent to and fro.

Greer was busy with her stepchildren, plans to have her husband free of any guilt of the participation of the attack on Catholics. She had gone around, asking nobles for support.

"Mary?" Francis called her.

She looked up and sniffled, wiping her tears. "I feel so alone, Francis," she whispered sadly. "I have you, I know... Kenna's gone, Lola's gone and Greer's... she is as good as. I feel unsupported."

"My love..." Francis breathed out, joining her in her bed.

"And it does not help us being in separated bedchambers. I know it is not for long, but I miss you," she said, sobs escaping her lips. "I hate this. I hate being with child!"

Francis kissed her, silencing her complaints. "Mary, you are going to be just fine. I will join you in bed, forget what my mother suggested."

She sniffled, eyeing him. "Will you?"

"I will," he said, nodding. "I have a solution for Scotland..."

She gasped, struggling to sit up. She was stopped by her husband and he continued on.

"Your brother has agreed to accept aid from France. Bash and Leith will sail for Scotland tomorrow," Francis told her.

"_Bash_?" She asked. "I-I thought that... I know he is still your King's Deputy, but he is a husband, a father to be. It is too risky-"

"I trust Bash to make it and back in one piece," Francis said to her. "This means that Kenna will return here during his absence. Only for a month, she is taking over in the running of their holdings."

Mary's eyes lit up. She knew it was awful of her to be glad of the silver lining, her friend returning to Court at the expense of her husband's departure to her home country. At least they won't be alone.

"I have also asked General Medici-"

"General Medici!" Mary cried out angrily. "I will _not_ accept aid from the likes of him! Do you know he's undone men's teeth as they still breathed?"

Francis winced. "Think of it as accepting aid from Italy-"

"Even worse," Mary said, almost whining. "I would rather have Scotland starve than having a tyrant mark his presence in my country."

"You cannot be serious?" Francis asked her. "He will be watched by Bash and Leith and our men. I trust them." He kissed her. "As long as Scotland is safe, that is all that matters."

"And your resistance in believing that your mother is working against us?"

He looked down. "My mother is acting in France's interests."

"Exactly! Just France and _not_ Scotland's!" Mary told him, disdain in her words. "I even doubt she is truly on our side. The only side she is on is hers. Ask Narcisse."

"Narcisse's head is buried in the woods," Francis replied.

"Then Catherine's should join his!" Mary cried out angrily, angry tears running down her red cheeks. "It was a wonderful idea, having Claude marry Luc Narcisse. Did he really believe we would let him poison our family with his other son?" She asked sarcastically.

Francis sighed, rubbing his face. "Mary, calm down, my love. We are all safe, no one can hurt us. Not while I am alive."

"Oh, alright," she mumbled, accepting his answer. "I love you. I don't want us to lose each other or our child."

"Do not worry, Mary," he said to her. "You and Button are safe, I will ensure it."

She leant up to catch his lips in a kiss. "Promise?"

"I promise."


	6. A Scary Ordeal For The Queen

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**elder441 [chapter 5]: You are very welcome! :)**

**Guest (1) [chapter 5]: Haha, here's the next chapter and we've made it to the time everyone has been waiting for ;)**

**Guest (2) [chapter 5]: Awh, thank you so much! I was always nervous when doing a Frary story because I didn't know whether to base it off on the show, etc. And after he died, well, I was mourning for the character haha. I took the plunge and I am so glad you are all loving it. I am aiming to do a chapter a day. You're very welcome :)**

**Alright, here is the awaited arrival of their first child :) (As stated in previous chapters, time jumps will be made.) Sorry for the shortness, I wanted to get something up for you.**

* * *

At nine months gone, it was time.

Mary was frightened. Terrified. Nervous. Angry. Upset.

Her feelings were confusing and she felt them in waves of spells; anger, sadness, anxiety then other emotions she could not even put her finger on.

All she knew was that the midwife was _not_ the first person she wanted in the chamber, desperately seeking for her husband who stood vigilant outside.

She could not even hear his words of consolation and encouragement. Men were not allowed during childbirth and she had good reason to have that rule turned.

"Bring. Me. Francis," she gritted out through her teeth, swatting away a hand dabbing at her forehead.

"Y-Your Majesty, but that is not-"

"I allow it. I want it. I _need _it. For the love of all that is good and true, bring my husband to me!" Mary cried out before letting out a painful groan, pressing a hand against her bump.

The midwife shared a nervous glance at the handmaiden's way, before giving her a firm nod. She watched as the handmaiden performed her duty, quickly seeking for the king and returning to her side.

"F-Francis?" Mary whispered, her eyes searching for her husband. She soon felt a hand brush her hair back and a kiss on her forehead. "You came."

"You did demand for me to be brought inside," he teased lightly. "Mary, you can do-"

"I can't," she cut him off, sobbing.

Ugly, wet tears slipped down her cheeks. She could barely see her husband, only the outline of blonde through the water.

"It hurts too much... I was never prepared for this!" She cried out, leaning into his chest.

"Are women ever prepared?" Francis asked her, massaging her head. "I know why you are scared."

She sniffled, wiping her nose. "If anything happens to me..." She trailed off, unsure. She looked very unqueenly. Her nose running, her hair a wet mess, her face as red as tomatoes. "Look after our child and do not mourn me. We have had more than enough time for our love-"

"Mary, _nothing_ will happen to-"

He was cut off by his wife crying out in pain, the midwife sending him a desperate look. If he was staying, he would have to help and coax his wife throughout the childbirth.

"Mary, it's time," he said, kissing her head and cupping her cheeks so they were face to face. "Push as hard as you have got. Soon, our child will be in our arms and we will be the family we've dreamed of."

She nodded before a strangled yell came out her lips. She pushed as hard as she could, squeezing Francis's hand.

"You did this to me," she said to him after her third push. "You. Did. This."

"Yes, I did," Francis admitted, grinning proudly.

"You take pleasure?" Mary asked, almost laughing but the pain became unbearable as she let out a moan. "I-I can't..."

The midwife cleared her throat. "Rest, Your Majesty. Savour your strength, we will start again soon."

Mary nodded, accepting the shortlived rest as she hit her husband on his arm. "You are proud of putting me through this?"

"I am proud for putting you through this to get to the end result," he replied. "A child of our own, Mary."

Mary let out a breathy laugh, tears watering her eyes. "Our blonde, blue-eyed Button?"

"Or our brunette, brown-eyed Button," he replied, kissing her lips.

"It is time," the midwife cut into their conversation. "Your little baby will make an appearance very soon..."

...

Marie Anne Valois-Angouleme-Stuart.

What a terrifying ordeal, Mary thought as she cradled her child in her arms. The ending was certainly worth the sobs, the screams, the bones breaking and everything alongside events that took place during childbirth.

"Hello, my Button..." Mary whispered, staring into the child's blue eyes. She ran her fingers through her hazel locks, a bright smile on her face. "My little Anne... Anne, her mother's little Button." She looked up at Francis. "I am not making any sense, am I?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "No, but it is sweet." He sighed. "I wish we could stay just like this, but my mother has already set up the formal introduction for her."

"Francis..."

"I know. I am sorry, but the sooner we do this, the better. Everyone needs to meet their new princess," he replied.

Mary scowled but placed a loving kiss on Anne's forehead. Although she had wanted a son, she adored her daughter very much and she was not willing to let the child go so soon.

Anne looked like a mixture of them, her eyes faring Francis's and her hair like many other relatives of both families.

"At least we can decide when to hold her christening," Francis added.

"Fine," Mary finally said. "Allow me to get ready. As soon as I am done, we will show our daughter to France."

That night as Anne slept in her cot beside her parents' bed, Mary not quite willing to allow her daughter more than a metre away from her, Mary wrote in her diary.

She had not kept one in a long time and she wrote of how overjoyed she was to welcome the new life into the world.

Before, she had written to Kenna and Lola, telling them of her happy news. She had also spoken with Francis on the subject of godparents, deciding Kenna and Bash would be wonderful godparents as the birth of their first child was coming up as well.

_'17 June. Our precious Button screamed her first wail in her father's arms as she came into the world. A baby of red in colour and lungs so strong, she would probably have the voice of angels. My Francis is already smitten, preferring to talk to her. Although, I do the same at times. Our little Marie Anne Valois-Angouleme-Stuart. It was no issue having my name after her father's. She is France's first, but she will always be Scotland's first. I wonder how the first night would be. The wet nurses are prepared, but I would love to give it a try. Feeding cannot be as difficult as it looks, I hope. Adieu, Mary.'_

"What are you doing?" Francis asked, wrapping his arms around her waist.

Mary turned her head to look at him. "Writing a little bit about our Anne. Our Button."

"She does have a button nose, doesn't she?" Francis said lightly, turning his head to look at their sleeping newborn. "She is perfect, Mary. You have made me happy in so many ways. You are beautiful, strong, perfect, _caring_..."

"Francis..." Mary whispered, her tears returning for what could have been the millionth time that day. "I am not. Not in the slightest and-"

"My wife. _My_ wife," Francis breathed out in disbelief. "After everything, I have been blessed to call you my wife. Before God, France and Scotland, my wife. And now, you have given me my daughter. I love you so much, Mary."

She leant her back into his chest. "I love you so much, too, Francis," she easily replied, smiling when he kissed the back of her neck. "I can't wait to have you take me again."

"We might be lucky in our first attempt after your rest," Francis said hopefully. "Having children close in age will be very healthy for them _and_ us."

She laughed. "Watch yourself, Francis! I have just given birth and you talk of a second child already?"

"Mary..." He whined.

"Francis," she mocked, reaching a hand behind her to grip onto his curls. "But yes, I can't wait until we have another child."

She hoped for a son this time. Even though it was not visible, people were doubting her of her efforts to produce a male heir. They would chastise her, Catherine certainly did.

False hope.

Francis had not minded, adoring the idea of a daughter, but his wife did.

And it kept her awake when they went to bed shortly after. Her daughter was not a son, but she was loved dearly.

Her daughter will someday be someone's wife, but she was loved dearly.

Her daughter's life was under threat, but she...

She was loved so very dearly, Mary would lay her life for her.


	7. A Wish From The Queen

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**Guest (1) [chapter 6]: Welcome Anne indeed!**

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**BlerBlerBler [chapter 6]: Thank you very much :)**

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**Guest (4) [chapter 6]: Ooh, Annie is a lovey nickname! And thank you so much, you're welcome!**

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**I am sorry if this seems too quick. I would rather write about their family when the children are older as we will be here forever if we do each birth and the months leading up to it. I find it fun to see them as children or teenagers (I see them being mischievous little children, particularly towards Catherine haha), so their babyhood might be sped up a little bit.**

****I've recently enjoyed reading extracts from some diaries of some people, so I am incorporating that inside the story. I imagine that in today's world, we would see them in a museum or something. Anyway, enjoy the next chapter!****

* * *

_Two Months Later_

"She is a plump little thing, isn't she?" Catherine asked, staring down at Anne in her cot.

The baby stuffed her fist in her mouth, her grandmother smiling slightly with a twitch of her lips curling upwards.

"Catherine," Mary warned, looking up from her letters from Scotland. "If you do not mind-"

"Soon, she will be running around the castle. It is time we have had little feet pattering about," Catherine cut her off. "Where is Francis?"

Mary rolled her eyes. "I have told you before, he is at a council meeting."

"At this time?" Catherine asked her, viewing the dark sky. "Is it important?"

"He did not say," Mary replied, placing her pen down. "Is there something you wanted?"

Catherine turned to her. "Not at all. I just thought a nice, little visit to my granddaughter was in need. Shame she was not a grandson, but beggars can't be choosers."

Mary set her jaw, standing up and heading over to the cot. She lifted her child into her arms and pressed a kiss on Anne's head. The queen glared at her in-law, daring her to say more about her daughter.

"Francis and I have all the time in the world to produce a male child," Mary snapped. "If you do not mind..."

Catherine left allowing Mary to sigh in relief.

As Anne began to cry, a knock on the door sounded and Mary cursed in annoyance.

"Yes?!" She called out, gently rocking Anne to sleep.

"Your Majesty, an urgent letter came through," the servant told her once he stepped through the threshold.

She turned to him, thrusting a hand to receive the letter. However, Anne's cries became louder and she asked if the servant could read it to her.

"Who is it from?" She asked first.

"The Duke," the servant nervously replied, opening the letter.

Mary knew a lot of dukes. "Which one?" She snapped impatiently.

Which one will she waste her time for?

"Oh, the King's brother."

"For the love of-Read it!" Mary cried out, shaking her head as Anne's cries died down at the mention of the uncle she was yet to meet.

"He says that he has returned home from Scotland to find your lady, Duchess Kenna, in labour," the servant whittled down for her.

Mary's eyes widened. "It is too soon. She has two months left."

"It was on his wife's request that he write to you - she may not make the childbirth."

Mary's heart fell and she looked down at Anne. Her beautiful, brown-haired baby who breathed, cried, pooped and ate. A baby of hers after so many years trying.

Then, there was Kenna. Kenna who had already lost one child and was scared to try again so soon after that grief. If she were to lose this baby after so many months of preparation, Mary would feel awfully guilty.

"Fetch servants to pack my things as well as the Princess's," she ordered. "I will see to the king myself."

...

Francis excused himself, seeing his wife appear in the doorway as she held their daughter.

He got up and gently coerced them away from eyesight and eardrop. "Mary, what is it?"

"Kenna, she needs me," Mary whispered, brushing a finger over Anne's cheek. "Bash is home, he found her in labour."

"It is too soon," Francis said in disbelief.

"As I said," Mary replied. "I have to be there for her-"

"You can't," he cut her off. "Mary, think about Button."

Mary bit her lips, sighing. "I am. Anne may not know it, but she shares the same blood as Kenna. And do not forget, her uncle is affected too. She will meet her godparents, her aunt and uncle since she has been born!"

"Fine. Take guards with you. Two governesses - you will gift my brother and Kenna with one. I have thoroughly checked them over, they are safe for you to take with you."

"Aren't you coming?" Mary asked him.

He nodded. "Tomorrow morning, I will be there. Then in a month, we will all return to the castle for Button's christening."

"Oh, my love... Be there as soon as you can," Mary begged softly. "As much as I love Kenna and will be there for her, I can't leave you."

"I will be with you all very soon," Francis assured her, kissing her lips. "Now, go."

She walked off, but not before sharing one last longing look with her husband. It will only be for a night that they will be apart.

...

"Oh, he's beautiful..." Mary cooed, holding her new nephew.

She felt jealous of her dear friend who laid tiredly on her bed, watching the aunt and nephew with a lazy smile.

"What name did you settle on?" Mary asked Kenna.

Kenna beamed. "Robert. Robert Francis de Poitiers," Kenna replied.

"A-After your father?" Mary breathed out, tears springing to her eyes. "I am sorry, he is unwell..."

Kenna smiled sadly. "He met Bash whilst Bash was there and visited Castle Barton. The next thing I know, my father sang praises of my husband through his letters to me and Bash was idolising my father too. Thank you, Mary, for reintroducing us to each other. Little Robin may not get to meet his grandfather, but I am glad his father met him at least."

"Uncle Robert was a war hero, I am starting to see how Bash could idolise him," Mary teased.

As their conversation died down, Mary stared into Robin's green eyes. He was so like his father, his hair as brown as his both of his parents', his nose as narrow as his mother's...

A son. A son for the King's bastard brother, but no son for the King himself. Well, Francis did have a son, an illegitimate son.

_Why can't I have a son?_ thought Mary sadly.

"Oh, Lizette," Kenna's voice rang in her ears. "What is it?"

The handmaiden's eyes landed on Mary. "Your Majesty, may I speak freely?"

Mary nodded, feeling slightly unnerved. "You may."

"After you used the chamber pot when you arrived, we had it tested," Lizette admitted nervously. "We did not know that it was yours then - we had needed to check our lady's pot for any blood from the afterbirth."

"And?" Mary asked impatiently. "Out with it."

Lizette swallowed deeply. "Y-You're with child, my Queen."

Mary gasped. If not for Robin in her arms, she would have covered her mouth. Tears sprung to her brown eyes. It was so soon after Anne!

A chance for a son. A chance to give Francis what he truly wanted and-

"Mary, as soon as Francis arrives, you need to tell him!" Kenna said, suddenly feeling strong enough to get out of her bed to take her child.

She placed the boy in his cot and turned to dismiss Lizette. After the woman had gone, Kenna hugged Mary tightly.

"Anne will be a big sister!" Kenna breathed out, laughing giddily.

Mary nodded, laughter leaving her lips as well. "Dear Lord, Francis and I will have our hands full!"

"You most certainly will!" Kenna replied, leaning back to stare at Mary. "When we return to the Court, not only will it be to christen Anne, but to announce another royal baby. Oh, Mary - you and Francis do work quickly!"

"It is as Catherine said. She and Henry spent years trying and then they all came one right after the other like... Oh, Kenna!"

A shrill, excited scream came from Mary and Kenna laughed.

"Champagne, Your Majesty?"

Mary gave her a knowing look. "Champagne? You and I both know-"

"What are you two screaming about?" Bash asked suspiciously, entering the bedchamber. "You will wake my son."

Mary turned to give him a grin. "He is already awake, you dolt," she teased, his wife nodding at her reply. "And you will find out soon enough."

Francis needed to hear first. Then, they will tell Bash and everything will be perfect.

Oh, she couldn't wait!

That night before she slept after midnight, her thoughts were scrawled down quicker than usual. Excitement, worries and trepidation laced in each word.

_'08 August. Kenna's handmaiden announced that Francis and I were to be parents once again. So soon after Anne, two months! Button grows bigger and bigger each day. I can't wait to see her walk and storm down the halls of the castle. Tonight, nearly past twelve, my first nephew was born. Robert Francis de Poitiers, the first child of Bash and Kenna. They bore a son, a son I could hopefully bear in this next arrival. Speaking of arrival, Button was engrossed with Robin, and her aunt and uncle were happy to meet her. When Francis comes later this morning, the four of us and our little Button and Robin will take a walk by the lake. The excitement precedes me, I must sleep soon. I think, if I did not make the haste decision to visit the Duke and Duchess of Avon, I would not have known I was with child until today. Happy. Happy is what I am and am destined to be for life. Adieu, Mary.'_

She signed her name off and beamed, biting her lip as she closed her diary.

...

After leaving her child with Kenna, Mary pulled Francis deeper into the woods. It was safe, the outskirts guarded and fenced off from the rest of the world. Mary could not deny that the duchy was more safe and peaceful than the castle.

It would be wonderful for Bash and Kenna to raise their children and sometimes host Mary and Francis with Anne and...

"Francis," Mary finally said once they were away from prying ears. Mainly Bash's.

"Mary," Francis responded in kind, capturing her lips in a kiss. "I have been waiting so long to do that."

She giggled softly. "So have I. Oh, isn't Robin the sweetest?"

"He is," Francis said. "I can't believe they named him after _me_. What have I done to hold that honour?"

"You have done so much for them. And for me," Mary replied, bringing his hands to her somewhat flat stomach. She had not got rid of the baby weight that easily so her dresses were always snug.

"W-What do you mean, Mary?" Francis asked, confused as he glanced at their hands and her eyes.

Mary smiled brightly, tears watering her eyes. "A baby, Francis. I'm with child _again_!"

At first, Francis was confused. The confusion then led to shock. The shock to a satisfied smirk. The satisfied smirk to shock again and finally...

"Are you saying...?"

"Yes, I am saying that Anne will be a big sister!" Mary cried out, almost hitting him for being slow. "Francis, we are expecting again. So soon after Anne, but again nonetheless!"

She screamed when she was lifted up and spun around. Her feet kicked about as her husband kissed her neck repeatedly. When she was placed down on the ground, he got to his knees and kissed the fabric that laid over her stomach.

"What should we call this one?" He asked, looking up at her in wonder and excitement. "How about Bean?"

Mary laughed. "You did not give me a chance to reply!" She told him. "And Bean? I do not know... Perhaps _Bun_."

"Very well," Francis breathed out, eyeing her stomach. "Hello, Bun. Button and Bun, our family is growing at a pace I never imagined!"

"I know," Mary said softly, smiling widely. "I almost did not believe Kenna's handmaiden. Francis, I love you so much."

"I love you too, Mary."

...

_Nine Months Later_

Another daughter.

"Mama!"

Mary tiredly looked up to see Anne crawling up the bed, making her way towards her mother and new sibling. How her blue eyes widened at the sight of something smaller than her as if it was impossible to have someone smaller than her, her father's first daughter.

"Anne, my love, be careful," Mary said to her eleven-month-old.

The child knew a few words, her alphabet being her favourite recitals. Now as she sang them in her small (but frightfully loud) voice, she disturbed the new baby, a wail emitting from the child straight after.

"Anne," Mary scolded lightly, knowing the child could not understand what that meant.

Horrified, Anne covered her ears and turned to Francis. She could see her father laugh, getting up from his letter to join his family on the bed. Anne immediately crawled into his arms and settled her thumb in her mouth.

"What should we name her?" Francis asked softly.

Mary shrugged. "I had names for a son picked out," she whispered, her eyes falling. She had been all cried out.

"Mary, I-"

"You would never understand, Francis!" Mary suddenly snapped. "How everyone looks to _me_ as if I can control whether I bear a son or not! I know we need to give France and Scotland a king, but what if all I give you are daughters?"

"I will still be happy and blessed regardless," Francis replied easily. "Daughters, sons, either way, a child from our love is enough for me. You are a queen, any of our daughters could be a queen too!"

Mary nodded and she burst into tears, ugly sobs escaping her lips. She stared down at her newborn who watched her, eyes wide.

"She is probably thinking why you are crying like a baby and she isn't," Francis said making them both laugh after Mary was feeling slightly better.

Mary wiped her face, staring at her daughter's rosy cheeks. "Rose."

"Rose," Francis repeated. "Yes, very fitting. Anne and Rose, Button and Bun."

"Bah?" Anne's voice cried out.

Francis laughed, as Mary joined in as he said, "Yes. Bun," to his daughter. "Mary Rose."

Mary turned to her husband. "Mary Rose Valois-Angouleme-Stuart," she confirmed, her eyes falling down towards Rose. "Our little darling daughter."

Once again, sleep did not come easy to her. Francis laid asleep on their bed, free of any worries or duties.

It was her duty to bear him a son, she had already two attempts and she had failed both times. Catherine's words plaguing her mind did not help sadly. It was out of her control.

She prayed and she begged and she cried... Her diary was now marked by dried water spots from her saltwater tears. She willed herself to give her husband a son. If Lola could do it, so could she. If Kenna could do it, she could do it.

_'25th May. Mary Anne was a late baby by a couple of weeks. She did not want to leave the comfort of my womb any sooner than she wanted. Catherine had given me a tonic to help dispel her and it worked much to my annoyance. I do not want help from a woman I cannot trust, but she is here to stay. More so she keeps chastising me for not bearing her a grandson. Francis does not mind, but I do. It is not only for the sake of France but for the sake of Scotland too. Scotland comes first for me, he forgets. I do not know what to do. My excitement, whenever I fall with child, leaves me. I can't help but worry and cry as my dreams of bearing a boy becomes distant. I least I can count on one boy's love. Francis has been nothing but supportive of me, I wish there was something I could do to treat him. I do not want him to suffer another birthday without the blessing of a son. I may have to resort to some extreme-'_

"Come and sleep, Mary," her husband's tired voice cut into her thoughts.

Mary placed the pen down, closed her diary and got up from the chair. She hid the diary, not minding if her husband saw - it was the guards, servants and Catherine she did not trust.

"I want Anne to sleep with us," she told her husband. "I was waiting for the wetnurse to finish feeding her."

Francis gave her a soft smile. "I will get her. Just get in this bed before you collapse. You gave birth not that long ago!"

Mary nodded sadly. "Francis-"

"Mary, I know," Francis told her, getting up and cupping her cheeks. "Just free your mind of any worries. When the time comes, we will have a son. He just needs to prepare for his arrival. A king can never be unprepared."

Mary laughed, shaking her head as he kissed her nose. "He is letting all of his sisters go first so he is outranked?" She asked. "So he is dominated by the feminine power?"

"Well, they do say the best things are saved for last. If we have twenty daughters and a son, all of our daughters will cherish him."

"If we _do_ have twenty daughters, we may not need to parent our children at all!" Mary laughed. "They will do that themselves, assert their authorities on those younger than them."

"That is probably true," Francis realised. "Perhaps not twenty. Or even ten... Maybe five?"

Mary snorted. "Five? You believe I will have five babies coming out of me?"

"If I could go through childbirth, you know I would," her husband said, grinning.

"You tease!" Mary scolded, slapping his chest. "But I know you would and that is one of the reasons I love you."

"I love you too."

With her daughters in their cots and her husband's arms around her, Mary slept better for the first time in ages. She felt safe and protected. She felt _assured_.

After all, a king could never be unprepared and all of her future son's sisters were just paving the way to welcome their brother. Their future king.

Her future legacy.


	8. A Warm January For The Queen

**Replies to reviews:  
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**elder441 [chapter 7]: Mary will get her wish ;) I feel as calling them pet names as children will be fine, but when they become teenagers, they will shed it off. I personally still have my pet names from when I was a baby and I am an adult now haha. It depends. I believe Queen Victoria and Prince Albert still called their children by their pet names until teenagehood. It's a sweet idea. **

**Guest (1) [chapter 7]: Those are coming very soon ;) All I'm saying!**

**Guest (2) [chapter 7]: Awh, thank you so much! I am working on each child's personality and we can see some in this chapter so enjoy :)**

* * *

_Five Years Later_

"Auntie Kenna!"

Mary winced when her daughter's voice called out for her aunt. Kenna had been avoiding the child, following a mishap with her sapphire necklace that Bash had got for her on her birthday.

After becoming engrossed by the jewellery, poor Kenna had been followed by the little persistent princess during their short visit to the castle.

"Mama, where is Auntie Kenna?" Anne asked, pulling a face at Rose.

Mary's eyes trailed towards the curtains where Kenna begged her not to say anything. Alarmed, the woman quickly rehid.

"I do not know, my love. Annie, go and find Robin and take Rose with you," Mary told her, getting up with some difficulty.

She was five months pregnant and Catherine had shoved tonic after tonic down her throat to ensure the arrival of a boy.

"But Mama...!"

"Annie, let's go and find Robin!" Rose told her older sister, eyeing her mother's impatient eyes.

Despite being younger by eleven months, Rose was certainly a smarter child than her boisterous older sister. She knew when to be quiet and not make any problems for her parents and other family members alike.

"Alright!" Anne snapped, pulling her sister out of her mother's offices.

As soon as the door was closed behind them, Kenna stepped out of her hiding place. "God," she muttered. "Your daughter is you through and through."

"I resent that!" Mary laughed. "How are you feeling?"

Kenna winced. "The morning sickness is horrible. I know you are happy to be passed that."

"I am indeed happy," Mary replied proudly. "Are you excited about your second child? It does have benefits for the first - Anne and Rose are the best of friends when they are not arguing."

Kenna chuckled lightly, attaching her necklace around her neck. "I do not really know if I am or not. I wasn't so sure about another child... I believed Robin was enough."

Mary nodded. "Doesn't Bash want more?"

"He does and that is fine," Kenna mumbled. "I almost lost my life in the first and second time. The first time being the miscarriage... I do not want to take a chance on anything."

"I am sure you will be just fine," Mary assured her. "I barely spend time with Francis and the girls fight over him. I wonder what it will be like with another child in the situation."

Kenna helped her sit as she said, "I am sure _you_ will be just fine."

"Mimicking my words does not assure me," Mary teased her. "Francis said he had a surprise for me. I feel like a bloated whale, who would want to surprise me?"

"A king who is madly in love-"

"There you are, Auntie Kenna!"

Kenna stilled, turning to see Anne grinning at her from the door. "A-Anne!"

"I left Rosie with Robin. They are playing princesses and knights!" Anne told her, walking up to the women. "And Papa promises to take us horseriding after with Uncle Bash. I don't want to do that, I want to wear _that_." She pointed at the necklace with longing eyes.

"Marie Anne!" Mary scolded her daughter. "That necklace is a lovely gift from your uncle to your aunt. Also, if your papa wants to spend time with you, you should cherish it."

Anne pouted. "B-B-But-"

"No 'buts', my love," Mary told her softly. "At least Papa sees you more than Mama sees him."

Looking between Kenna and Mary, Anne finally admitted defeat and left to find her sister and half-cousin. The moment the door closed once again, the women burst into laughter.

"Francis can't control her!" Mary confessed. "It is only me she listens to. I especially enjoyed that time when she placed a frog on Catherine's pillow."

"I wish I was here to see that!" Kenna laughed. She stopped laughing when Mary let out a sharp wince. "Are you alright?"

Mary quickly nodded. "He moves a lot."

"_He_?" Kenna questioned, a smile on her face. "You truly believe it will be a boy?"

"I hope and I pray," Mary said, rubbing her bump. "Francis and I have stayed away from giving him a name. It's superstitious I know. Anyway, I want the children to be as innocent as they can be. The world is a scary place and I want to do all I can to protect them."

Kenna nodded in understanding. "I know what you mean. Robin is interested in swords now and I've begged Bash not to teach him sword fighting. Not until he's thirteen, at least. Bash may have taken the life of a quiet one, but he is still eager to fight battles that aren't his to fight."

"Oh, Kenna..."

"He almost got himself killed. This pagan problem coming back, it's put a strain on our marriage," Kenna confessed.

"Because of his pagan ties?"

"Yes," Kenna whispered nervously. "I just hope my children do not have a trace of pagan in them. It is too dangerous. We should be relieved that the Protestant and Catholic issues have been solved."

Mary nodded. "At least our children are safer. I wish you all the best when you return home. It is a shame you will miss the birth of this child as well."

"I know... Bash and I are taking Robin to meet my family in Scotland. Do you want me to take anything there for you?"

Mary frowned. Her mother was dead, her half-brother and she were not on the best terms and the only family she had was here with her, in France.

"No," she told Kenna. "Only my love for Uncle Robert and everyone else."

Kenna smiled brightly. "Mary, I promise you that this baby will be the one you have been waiting for."

Mary decided that this promise was enough for her to accept her wishes would come true.

...

30th January.

Mary stared at the baby in disbelief.

Was this real?

_He_ let out a wail and it confirmed her suspicions.

"Dear God," she breathed out, turning to face Francis. "Francis, we have a son!"

Francis laughed, pressing kisses on her face, her sweaty face. God, he did not care.

"I have a surprise for you," he whispered into her ear.

"Francis, let me rest first!" Mary giggled. "I can't leave the bed and do anything just yet."

Francis shook his head, heading towards the windows. "You do not even have to get up, my love."

He opened the windows up to the dark sky and revealed many fireflies floating in lanterns in the sky. He turned to his wife, spotting her watering eyes.

It was exactly like all those years ago, she thought to herself. After she had her first miscarriage and believed she could not bear her husband's children. After she had lost hope.

"F-Francis," she croaked out, getting out of the bed with their new son still in her arms.

Her eyes were transfixed on the glowing orange sky. Then she looked down and saw her name in bright lights. Something Henry had done for Kenna many years ago as well.

Here, it was nothing like Henry's gesture. Her daughters squealed happily when she noticed them down below, pointing up at their new sibling.

"Anne, Rose!" Mary called out. "Come and meet your new brother!"

She turned to Francis, placing a soft kiss on his lips in gratitude. She honestly could not have asked for a better husband, for a sweeter and caring husband.

"Francis James Valois-Angouleme-Stuart," she quickly said. "I know we were scared to think of names, but now he is here... It fits perfectly. I am sure he won't mind sharing your name with his cousin." She looked down, pressing a kiss on her son's head.

"It does fit perfectly," Francis replied happily. "And he won't. He will be a giver and not a taker. He will rule France and Scotland with a kind soul and just attitude-"

"Where is he?"

Mary's face fell at the sound of Catherine's voice.

"We will always have tomorrow," Francis promised his wife before taking their son from her arms and introducing the grandmother to her grandson.

Mary smiled despite her annoyance. _We will have tomorrow and forevermore_, she thought.

...

A week later, Mary received letters from Lola and Kenna. Both letters were filled with happiness and joy for the new arrival.

Thinking about Lola, Mary felt slightly guilty. It was the third sibling John had yet to meet. It seemed that he was happy in Italy though and Francis nor Mary had ever brought him up to their daughters.

"We should tell the girls about John," Mary told her husband as she opened another letter, this time from her brother, James.

"Are you sure?" Francis asked, rocking their son in his arms. He didn't turn to look at her, his eyes trained on their sleeping child.

Mary nodded. "I am," she whispered. "I miss Lola, I miss Kenna and I miss Greer. I understand why Greer and Aloysius had to take their family to Scotland and change their identities, but I do not have friends to support me."

"Mary, once they find out, the girls will want to know him. Are you sure you can handle that?" Francis asked her firmly.

"I am. Now, you won't have to disguise your trips to Italy as business deals. You can invite John here - Francis, we have a son and we will have another one, one day," Mary told him, willing him to look at her.

He looked up to reach her eyes. "Mary, you said it yourself - you felt threatened by-"

"When I was not able to bear your son. Now, I have, I feel at peace. John and Lola are coming home and that is the end of it," Mary replied, turning back around.

"As you wish. Bash and I are going to Calais next month," he said, moving the conversation along. "An English envoy was spotted."

"Do you have to go?"

Francis shook his head. "I want to, though. Bash, I can't take any chances of losing my brother. My orders almost got him killed, the most I can do is go with him and Leith. We will return as soon as possible. Perhaps even visit his land mine."

"We barely spend any time together," Mary said softly, starting to write out replies to her friends. "When you return, we will take the children to visit Avon."

"Why?" Francis asked her with a frown.

"We need to spend time together as a family, my love," she said, getting up to stand in front of him. "Kenna has prepared the household for our arrival then. We can take them to the lake, teach the girls how to swim..."

"T-That's a lovely idea," Francis said with a bright smile. "Maybe they will be too interested in James so we can be alone."

Mary giggled. "Oh, we could go horseriding!"

"Yes," Francis replied. "I wonder if you can still mount a horse."

"I think I can!" She laughed. "We should get a dog for the children - Robin got one for his birthday. I am sure the girls will adore a dog. Teach them about responsibility."

"Can one even teach Anne anything? She will dress the dog in dresses and tell us that is her part done," Francis said, making them laugh. "She is _your_ daughter."

Mary gasped. "Who do you think she gets those manipulative blue eyes from?"

Francis blushed. "Well, let's agree that she is _our_ daughter."

* * *

**Next chapter will be Frary bonding time and Frary & family bonding time :) Not only that, some sibling rivalry!**


	9. A Family Day Out With The Queen

**I'm sorry! I had food poisoning and well, it wasn't the best feeling in the world, haha. Here's the next chapter coming right up after the replies.**

**Replies to reviews:**

**Guest (1) [chapter 8]: Haha, yep! That won't be the only bit we see of cheeky little Anne.**

**BlerBlerBler [chapter 8]: They aren't as interesting as babies, so I wanted to start their exciting lives with them as young kids. James will be a baby for the foreseeable chapters as his sisters get up to mischief.**

**elder441 [chapter 8]: Thank you! Enjoy the next :)**

**Guest (2) [chapter 8]: Yeah, the time jumps was only to get them to the current ages of their childhood. They are more exciting at this age. Thanks so much and the parents will bond with their children in this chapter, mostly Francis as Mary takes care of James.**

**Guest (3) [chapter 8]: Thank you so much! Sorry for the short delay, here's the next chapter!**

**Guest (4) [chapter 8]: Here it is! Sorry for the delay!**

**Guest (5) [chapter 8]: Here it is! I will be doing it in two parts :)**

**Quick thing, Anne is five years old and Rose is four. Rose is eleven months younger than Anne and James is a newborn.**

* * *

"S-Swimmimg, Papa?" Rose asked nervously as she eyed the running water. "It's too cold!"

Francis chuckled, lifting her up into his arms. "It's fine! Look, Olly likes it."

"Olly is a dog, Papa," Anne said from behind him. "I want to stay with Mama."

"Girls," Mary called out. "Swimming can be fun! Your father is a great teacher."

Rose turned to her. "Did he teach you, Mama?"

Sharing a glance with her husband, Mary nodded at their daughters. It was alright to tell a white lie if it got them learning something new.

"If not for your brother, I would be in there before Olly!" Mary replied, stroking James's cheek. "Go on, my loves. You are safe with your father."

Sending his wife a grateful smile, he lifted Anne into his other arm and slowly weaned himself into the lake. He nearly jumped as the girls started shrieking at the feeling of water wetting their feet.

"No...!" Rose cried out, trying to leap back to land.

Anne, however, calmed down and started giggling, kicking her legs in the water. They weren't even fully submerged, their feet just under the surface as they were held by Francis.

"Let me down, Papa!" Anne told her father, leaping out of his arm for a different reason than her sister. "Let me down!"

"I can't," Francis said, laughing. "I don't want you to drown."

"Drown?" Rose asked, her eyes widening. "Oh, no...!"

Mary, who had heard them, looked up from studying James's face. She gave Rose an encouraging smile.

"You will not drown, Rosie. Your father will make sure you are alright-"

"I want out! I want out!"

Deciding not to distress his younger daughter any longer, he waded over to the bank and let her down. He watched as she ran towards Mary, snuggling her face into her side.

"Papa, teach me!" Anne's call came and he turned to her with a wide smile. "I want to swim!"

"Alright, my sweetheart. We should leave your sister, for now."

Not once did he let go of Anne's hands, Mary noted. Francis stayed in the shallow end with her and taught her how to paddle.

Their little girl was a natural, like a fish. Even when Mary had given James to the governess so she could prepare their lunch, Anne refused to leave the lake.

"Anne, shall I let go?" Francis asked his daughter.

Anne shook her head, her grip tightening on his hands. "Not yet, Papa. I want to go in the water! Can I go under the water, now?"

"Are you certain you want to?" Francis asked.

She nodded. "I can hold my breath!"

Anne then proceeded to show him, her face reddening as each second ticked by. Just as her father counted ten seconds, she released the breath and gasped. She then grinned at Francis.

"See, Papa?"

"Alright then. I will-"

Before he could even count her in, she ducked her head underneath the water and he followed after, giving her a smile.

His daughter had her mother's feistiness and his willing nature to learn new things. If it was possible, she could have been queen.

_A wonderful, sweet and fair queen,_ he thought to himself.

Anne would be a great queen. Perhaps he should find a match with a king because he knew his daughter was meant to lead and not follow. She would be the great mind behind a great man and with the world in her hands, there was nothing she couldn't do.

When they arose from the water, they saw Rose staring at them in awe.

"Papa, can I try?" She asked, reaching both little hands for him.

"Of course, my Rose," he replied, leading Anne towards the edge to pick Rose up. "Something is scary if you make it scary."

Rose nodded eagerly. "Like when I am scared of the spiders?"

Francis nodded in reply. "Spiders are just as scared as you. You will make them scary if you think they are scary. Just like the lake. It is quite a calming place to be..." He looked up at his wife. "Your mother and I would make visits to lakes and waterfalls with little picnics..."

Mary's eyes watered and she bit back a smile, continuing to butter up some bread. She remembered those days before they had the girls and James. Those days when it was only him and her.

She adored her children, but she adored her husband's company as well. She missed their closeness and time spent together.

She ought to ask if Kenna and Bash could relieve them for a full week of the children. Perhaps, she and Francis could visit the waterfall together with a picnic.

No guards, no children - just Francis and her.

"Mama, the water is not scary!" Rose cried out to her happily. "Look, I am swimming, Mama! I'm swimming!"

Mary laughed, almost snorting very unqueenly. Her daughter was _not_ swimming. At least, as well as Anne was doing, still holding onto her father's other hand. Rose was flapping around with her free arm, her little head bopping up and down.

"Well done, Rose!" Mary replied, clapping. "Well done!"

...

Mary jolted awake, her husband sheepishly grinning at her.

"F-Francis?" She asked groggily. "It's too early in the morning - what is it?"

"Shh," Francis whispered. "Everyone is asleep."

She nodded, rubbing her eyes. "Francis, I'm tired-"

"Bash got two horses ready for us. I've got some food and wine-"

"Francis, what do you mean?"

He got out of the bed and pulled her up. She almost swayed, her eyes closing as she yawned but he shook her. He grinned when her eyes snapped open again and her expression became livid.

"Francis!"

"Shh!" He quickly said. "Come on, get your best dress on. Well, not your best. Well, the best you do not mind getting dirty."

Mary moaned in disdain, following his orders. "What are you doing, you crazy man?"

"I am doing something spontaneous!" Francis replied, giving her a wink. "Come on, wife. Where is your sense of adventure?"

"In my dreams," she replied without emotion. "My lovely dreams where I had my lips on a blonde prince-"

"What blonde prince?" Her husband asked, grinning.

She blushed. "Well, he isn't a prince anymore and he's grown more annoying than before."

"You married me for a reason, my beautiful wife," Francis told her, kissing her lips. "Come on. I promise it will all be worthwhile."

"What about the girls and James?" Mary asked, finally putting her corset on.

"Kenna agreed to look after them with the governesses. I am sure the girls would like playing with Robin than follow us."

Mary nodded. "Horses?"

"Yes, is that a problem?"

She shook her head. "I ought to wear something of comfort then. My bottom may be sore if this journey is long."

Francis winced, heading over to the door. "Do not worry, I have ointments for that."

"You have really prepared for this, haven't you?" She asked, smiling softly. "Will it be a lovely surprise?"

"Of course. Only the best for my wife and queen. The only Mary that matters-"

"We have daughters with-"

"One of the Marys that matters to me," he reiterated, watching her get dressed. "Now, hurry up! Before Anne makes her way here and finds out we are leaving."

It dawned on her. "She is only independent when she wants to be. We really ought to wean the girls off sleeping in our bed."

"I blame you," Francis teased her, crossing his arms. "You spoil them too much."

"Pardon me? _You_ spoil them!" Mary replied, laughing. "It is okay because when they are older, they will stand on their own two feet. It just hurts me that Anne will not be able to be the queen I know she can be. It is better this way, James is our heir. At least he has two older sisters to protect him no matter the cost."

Francis gave her an approving smile. "I love you so much, Mary. Every day, I may not say it but I do."

"I know you do," Mary replied, beaming. "And I love you, too. Thank you."

"For what?"

"You being you and our children... For making me happy," she told him, walking over to him. "For being wonderful. Some men treat women horribly, but you treat me with respect, love and care. Tonight will be the first night of many secret getaways. Just to reaffirm our love for each other."

"Yes, what a nice idea," he replied. "You seem to be giving me all of these wonderful ideas. Let's move on, we need to go before Anne comes."

She giggled, turning around so Francis could help her with her laces. When he was done, she kissed him and put her cloak on.

The only thing that was heard at the dead of the night was a pair of footsteps hurrying outside, soft laughter following them.


	10. A Waterfall Moment With The Queen

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**Guest (1) [chapter 9]: I am now! I will now be staying away from seafood. haha. Thanks so much, enjoy this next chapter!**

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****Guest (4) [chapter 9]: Thank you very much! Enjoy this next chapter.****

* * *

Loud screams were heard and Kenna ran towards the source, one of her handmaidens following behind her. She struggled, the handmaiden being quicker than her as Kenna was now six months pregnant.

When they arrived, she gasped when she saw Anne and Rose fighting over once of Mary's dresses.

"It's mine!" Anne cried out.

"No, mine!" Rose replied, angrily.

Kenna walked over, snatching the poor dress easily from the grips of the two girls. She glared down at them once they realised her presence and looked up.

"Auntie Kenna! Rose was ruining Mama's dress. I tried to stop her, I did!" Anne cried out, crocodile tears leaving her cheeks. "She said she wanted to give Mama a surprise for when she and Papa come back."

Kenna raised her eyebrow, seriously thinking if the child thought she was stupid. "Is that right?" She asked, turning to a frightened Rose. "Rose?"

"She was trying to wear Mama's dress," Rose said. "I told her not to, she wouldn't-"

She gasped when she felt a pinch on her lower back and she kept quiet, her cheeks further reddening. Tears threatened to spill over and Anne seemed to be proud of herself.

Sighing heavily, Kenna knelt down to both of their heights. "Girls, you do know the importance of telling the truth? The Bible says we should not lie. Now tell me what happened, what _really_ happened."

Anne looked down. "Mama's dress was just lying on the bed. I wanted to put it on, it is so pretty."

"Now, was that so hard?" Kenna asked softly, brushing tears from Rose's cheek away. "Not only that, but you and Rose are sisters. Rose is your only sister and there is only one of her. In the future, when you need your closest allies by your side, you would want your sister there wouldn't you?"

Anne turned to Rose, her eyes falling. "Yes. She is my best friend!"

"Why do you not treat her as such sometimes?" Kenna asked, handing Rose a handkerchief to blow her nose. "You can't bully your little sister, she's all you've got."

"I'm sorry, Rosie," Anne mumbled, giving her a tight hug.

Rose froze. "It's okay," she replied, not quite sure what to do.

"Lovely," Kenna said to them. "Who wants to make some strawberry tarts?"

"I do!" Both girls cried out, each taking one of her hands as she stood back up.

Kenna sighed in relief. If this was how it was like having many children, she was not sure if she wanted that. At least there were a good few years or over between Robin and this child, she feared they would be subject to meaningless squabbles every time.

Now, where were her pomegranates...?

...

"Mary?" Francis whispered, running his fingers through his wife's hair. The same hair on the head that laid across his chest lazily, a content smile on the lips of that head.

She looked up at him. "Yes?"

"What do you think the girls are doing?"

She snorted, giggles escaping her lips. "Annoying Bash or Kenna. I hope not Kenna, she can't handle them and expecting."

"Do you think they will notice our little sneak away?"

"Certainly," his wife replied, grinning mischievously. "I love them, I do and James, but time with you has been something I've wanted for _years_. If it's not France or Scotland, it is the children that need us and I am glad we're doing this."

He smiled, kissing the top of her head. "I am too."

She listened to his heartbeat, her other ear enjoying the sounds of wildlife around them. It took them a short while to get to the waterfall and she was glad that they hadn't spent ages riding. She was still tired from when her husband ungraciously awoke her from her slumber in the middle of the night.

"Your heart, it skips a beat," Mary stated, looking up at him with a wide smile. "Is that because of me?"

"Oh, my heart does more than skip a beat," Francis replied, blushing. "You do not know the effect you have on me. From when we were five..."

She laughed softly. "I think I have an idea of the effect I have on you. Otherwise, we would not have been blessed with three beautiful children."

"Shall we make it four?" Her husband asked cheekily.

Hitting his chest, she laid her back onto it. "Not yet!" She replied. "Perhaps a year, at least. I do not know how your mother did it."

"A whole lot of patience, my love," Francis replied. "Especially when it came to Claude."

Mary laughed loudly now. Of course, Claude would be giving her mother grief. Everyone knew Elisabeth was Catherine's favourite and not the rebellious princess.

"I can't believe she is a mother-to-be," Francis said softly. "It scares me."

"What does?" Mary asked in alarm.

"The speed at which we are growing up. Soon, we will be old and grey and mere relics on thrones," he said sadly. "I want to make the most of our youth, of our love and I want to spend more time with you and the children."

She smiled sadly. "It's a wonderful dream, but we can't. Not when France and Scotland both rely on us. At least we have moments like these."

"Yes," Francis replied. "The first of many."

"Francis, you do know how much I love you?" Mary asked him, grinning madly as if she was a happy canine.

"Oh, Mary, I do," he replied, returning her bright beam. "God, you're so beautiful. In fact, sit up."

Complying she sat up and continued to lay on her side a little, watching him as he got up and retrieved a few items. A pen and some paper attached to a book.

"W-What-"

"Don't move," Francis told her, looking at her before quickly marking the paper.

After a while, he lifted the paper and showed his wife his quick creation. He grinned when she gasped, taking the paper for herself to see clearer at her husband's talented hand.

"Francis!" Mary breathed out. "Oh, I look beautiful in this... You drew me."

"I was not as good as you," her husband replied modestly, turning to watch the waterfall. "You were better at me in everything."

"I was not!" Mary replied, brushing her fingers over the pencil marks of her portrait. "My mother used to bemoan that I was not as good as you playing the piano. I used you as a crutch when we were children so your mother did not yell at me for ruining the piece."

Francis turned to her, stunned. "Really? I always thought I was off."

"You never were," she admitted, grinning shyly. "Why do you think I always asked for us to play together and not alone?"

"You little devious creature," Francis said, chuckling. "At least we can both agree who is the better singer. Anne told me to stop singing her and Rose to sleep the other night. She feared the whole house would hear my _horrible singing_."

"Marie Anne," Mary scolded despite her daughter not being anywhere near them. "Her mouth running will get her in trouble one day."

Francis waved it off. "She is just a girl. When she is grown, she will understand. I did not mind though, it gave me a chance to listen to my beautiful queen's voice."

"I love you, Francis," Mary repeated.

Pressing a kiss to her lips, he repeated her words back before lifting her into his arms and running towards the shallow end of the lake. He wanted to kiss her like they were schoolchildren under the waterfall.

"Francis!" Mary squealed.

He looked into her eyes. God he loved her.


	11. An Extra Night For The Queen

**Well, I am so sorry for the delay! Apparently, the food poisoning was not all out of my system and I did get a terrible fever after being caught in heavy showers which made me feel even more terrible than I did already. Was meant to post this up yesterday night, but fell asleep before I could. Apologies! :) This is short because I had ideas that were too long to fit into a chapter going off previous lengths of chapters. So I chopped this off to end the night and start the new day in the next chapter.**

**elder441 [chapter 10]: Thank you! Enjoy the next chapter :)**

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**Guest (2) [chapter 10]: I'm glad you enjoyed it! :)**

**Guest (3) [chapter 10]: Thanks so much, glad you loved it! :)**

**Guest (4) [chapter 10]: Great ideas! I had them in mind because they definitely need some TLC from their parents after their little brother's arrival. Thanks so much! :)**

****Guest (5) [chapter 10]: Right here ;)****

* * *

Kenna furrowed her brows as she woke up, rubbing the bleariness away. She almost screamed when she saw a child with blonde hair covering her face, dressed in all white.

Only almost because she then realised who the culprit was.

"Rose?"

Rose moaned. "I don't feel well, Auntie Kenna."

Kenna sighed, reaching over to hit Bash awake. She turned to see him digging his face deeper into his pillow, seemingly wanting to ignore her.

"Did she vomit?" His muffled voice asked.

She turned to Rose. "Did you vomit?"

"No," Rose replied, shaking her head shyly. "I don't feel well. I want my Mama and Papa!"

Then it dawned on Kenna. "You're missing your parents, aren't you, sweetling?"

Rose nodded sadly, hugging her stuffed teddy even tighter to her chest. She let out a disgruntled huff and swayed side to side.

"When I have the night terrors, Papa reads me back to sleep. I want Papa to read me to sleep!" Rose told her.

"Rosie, your parents aren't back yet. I am sure they would love to read you to sleep, but can you settle for Uncle Bash tonight?"

Bash looked up at her, sending her a light glare. "I read two other children to sleep. It's your turn, my love."

Kenna blushed. "Fine," she said, turning away and not making any effort to leave the bed. "I just wonder who is carrying a child inside them as-"

He groaned into his pillow, got out of the bed and put his night coat on as he was almost fully undressed. Tying the belt, he walked up to Rose and lifted her into his arms.

"Which book do you wish to have read to you?" He asked, brushing her hair from her eyes.

"The French one," Rose replied sweetly. "Papa does all the voices!"

Bash resisted the urge to roll his eyes. At least Robin never asked for different voices - his nieces were spoilt.

"Voices it is," he said, sighing.

...

As soon as the estate was in sight, Mary sighed in relief.

As much as she enjoyed her time with Francis, even if it was for a day, she missed her children.

She missed Anne's defiance and Rose's sweetness. She even missed James's scent of lavender and lemons from his baths each day. The baths she insisted on doing for her children herself.

"I miss them," she told Francis as the rode into the stables.

"I did, too," he replied. "Unfortunately, it is late for us to wake them although I am certain James will be awake for his nightly feed."

Mary's eyes lit up. "I want to do it myself. Would you mind sorting-"

Before she knew it, the stableboys were attending to their horses, even helping them with their belongings. A few handmaidens then arrived to help them.

"They work very fast here," Mary noted as they headed up the stairs to the bedchambers wing. "Faster than at the castle. Did we hire the slowest staff in the whole of France?"

Francis laughed softly, not wanting to wake anyone. "I believe they're just fine. You are too spoiled on our time away, Mary."

"Perhaps Bash should have accepted the duchy sooner," Mary quipped.

As they passed the girls' chambers, they heard a soft voice reading a book. Francis immediately recognised it and a smile grew on his face as he entered the chambers with his wife right behind him.

The couple stood there, Francis's arm around Mary's waist and her hand on his chest, both watching Bash read _both_ girls to sleep now that Anne had discovered her sister's plot.

"You're terrible at the voices!" Anne told him, crossing her arms angrily. "The wolf doesn't sound like that.

"For the love of-Alright, Anne and Rose. Let's go to sleep now, your aunt needs me, and it's late," Bash replied calmly.

He planted a kiss on each child's head as Mary and Francis quickly ran out before any of them caught them.

"One more night?" Mary asked quietly, grinning.

"I think we need that. I am not looking forward to an hour of scraggly voices for two impatient little girls," Francis teased, leading his wife to the nursery.

They found the governess just about to feed James and Mary quickly took over as Francis paid her for her troubles.

"Look at him, Francis. Look at our son," Mary breathed out.

She was still in disbelief some days, wondering how on Earth she gave birth to such a handsome, little boy. To such a beautiful creature who rarely cried the castle down as his sisters had done. Who rarely needed to be held.

"He's independent already," she continued. "Our little prince."

One of the doors opened and they both turned to see Kenna staring at them in surprise. She had a hand on her bump and gave them a warm smile.

"The governess told me you had returned. Am I correct when I say that your time away was much needed?" She asked them knowingly. "Should we expect another little prince-"

"No," Mary cut her off, giggling. "We took precautions. Let a woman rest her hips."

Kenna nodded, a smirk still on her face. "Well, you _did_ have Anne right after Rose. They gave us grief, your little angels."

"Did they now?" Francis asked, biting a smile back.

He shared a look with his wife. They already knew the mischief their girls got up to. If what had occurred between them and their frustrated uncle had shown them anything, it was that they put the couple through their paces.

"If you could refrain from leaving any time soon so your little girls do not creep into my bedchambers looking like ghosts..." Kenna trailed off. "By the way, I saved a dress of yours from being torn apart."

Mary gasped. "They didn't!"

"They did," Kenna confirmed. "It seems like my necklace isn't the only thing Anne likes. When she marries in the future, her husband better has enough to cater to all of her expensive tastes."

They shared a laugh before Kenna finally bid them 'goodnight' and left for her own husband's comfort.

James cooed and Mary looked down at him, studying his wide eyes as he fed from her chest.

"Hello, my love," she said softly, kissing his head. "Why don't we go horseriding tomorrow morning with the girls? We will leave James with the governess."

Francis replied with a nod, getting onto the chaise and laying down. "Splendid idea. As he feeds, I am going to sleep..." He yawned. "Goodnight, Mary. I love you."

"I love you, too," she replied, looking down at her son when he cooed again. "And I love you, James," she whispered into his ear. "Mama's special little blessing."


	12. A Prayer With The Queen

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**elder441 [chapter 11]: They are! I think it's because they've longed for them for so long, they cherish them even more.**

**Guest (1) [chapter 11]: Better things are coming because the family are returning home. I imagine Bash bending to his nieces' every will because they're so demanding haha. Thanks so much, things will get back on track now. **

**Guest (2) [chapter 11]: Thanks so much and you're welcome! Enjoy the new chapter.**

**A little drama in this chapter because the family are going home. When they return in the next chapter, we will have more sweet moments with the family.**

* * *

"Did you stay up all night?" Francis asked Mary as they ate breakfast with the girls.

Mary nodded, covering her mouth as she yawned. "I will be fine. Eat up, the horses will be ready soon."

"Mama, what did you and Papa do?" Anne asked her, stabbing her fruit.

Mary blushed. "We went to see a waterfall."

"Was it pretty?" She asked, looking at her parents in intrigue. "And warm?"

"It was," Francis confirmed, sharing a knowing look with his wife who blushed. "Very warm, indeed."

Mary cleared her throat, hoping her cheeks would return to their usual paleness as she said, "Did you enjoy your day with Robin, Auntie Kenna and Uncle Bash?"

Rose nodded happily. "Auntie Kenna taught us how to make strawberry tarts! We saved some for you to eat for dessert."

"Yes, she did!" Anne added. "And we also made her some pomegranate ones because she said that the baby liked to eat them. The baby is inside her, how can they have an opinion, Mama?"

Mary laughed, brushing some crumbs from Anne's mouth. "Sometimes when mamas have babies in them, the babies really want them to eat something they might not like. Your Auntie Kenna never liked pomegranates, it was always too sour for her, but the baby wants it so she wants it. They are people too, babies."

Anne blinked before accepting her answer with a nod and pushing her plate away.

"Will Auntie Kenna have a girl? I want her to have a girl," Rose said, pushing her own plate away. "So we can play princesses and knights!"

Francis grinned, turning to his wife. "Something tells me that Bash is hoping for another son."

"He can't! He has to have a girl. I want a girl!" Anne replied. "Girls are better than boys."

"Dear Lord," Francis mumbled, chuckling. "Alright my sweetlings, shall we get ready for our horseriding?"

Before he could stand up, his daughters were already running towards the exit, going to change their dresses.

"At least we've raised daughters who will be punctual," Mary told him. "They get that from _me_."

...

Anne chose a brown horse with a white patch on its nose. It was Robin's horse, but whatever she wanted, she got. She even managed to convince Francis to ride with her.

Rose went for a baby pony, being supported by a walking Mary as she rode near the fences, with Olly walking on a lead with her other hand. Rose clapped her hands when the pony dipped its head to eat at her command.

"Mama, she's eating!"

"I can see, my love," Mary replied proudly. "Do you like your horse, back at the castle?"

Rose shook her head. "I want a pony! Uncle Bash has so many ponies and horses, why can't _we_?"

Mary didn't know how to explain to a child that their guards and other help needed horses as well as them at the castle. Here, Bash was a keen horse breeder, selling his horses at discounted prices for the townsfolk.

"They do not _all_ belong to Uncle Bash, Auntie Kenna and Robin," Mary finally told her daughter as Francis and Anne caught up with them. "They breed horses for other people."

"Can they for me?" Rose asked politely despite forgoing a 'please'.

Francis gave her a smile. "I can see what your uncle can do."

As Mary led the pony on, she breathed in deeply. She enjoyed the fresh air and wondered how different her life was to her children's lives.

She was brought up as an only child, despite having an older brother. She lived around Scotland, brought up with Kenna and Lola's parents before going to France for a few years and returning to Scotland to be hidden away in a convent.

Her children will never need to hide or cower away or be moved place to place, never knowing if they'd see home again.

She shared a smile with Rose and she grinned back, a gap in her teeth - she had one fall out right after breakfast had been over. The apple did a good job.

"Mama, Papa, can we visit the chapel?" Anne asked. "I want to pray."

Mary and Francis shared a look of surprise. Their daughters listened to their prayers as they prayed before bed, but not once did either girl say a prayer.

"I think you are old enough," Francis said approvingly. "Yes, let's go to the chapel."

When they got there and left their horses and Olly outside, they saw a few farmers kneeling at the front. A few handmaidens were there too and some farmer's wives who made the flour and delivered the eggs every morning.

They all stood and bowed or curtseyed for the royal family before dispersing and heading outside.

They walked towards the front and the couple to lead, kneeling down and bringing a daughter to their lap.

"Anne?" Francis called his daughter softly. "What would you like to say?"

Anne turned to him. "I want to say how much I love you, Mama, Rosie and James."

"Go ahead," Mary replied, proudly. "We love you, too, Annie."

After two more hours of riding after the chapel visit, they headed back to the state. The couple were surprised to see a priest and Nostradamus enter the home.

"Why is Nostradamus here?" Mary asked curiously as they headed to the stables.

"I am asking the same question," Francis replied, giving his wife a comforting smile. "I am sure we have no prophecies to fear."

Her lips quirked upwards nervously and she lifted Rose off the pony as Francis dismounted the horse, bringing Anne into his arms.

They headed inside, leaving the horses to the stableboys and noticed that everything was quiet.

"Robin!" Anne called out, getting out of her father's grip to rush towards him on the main stairs. "We can play princesses and knights!"

Robin shook his head sadly, sitting down on the steps. "My mama is hurting," he said sadly, much to Mary and Francis's alarm. "Papa said I have to wait outside because of her screaming. I've been waiting for _hours_ now."

"Screaming?" Mary repeated in confusion. Her eyes widened in realisation soon after. "Is your mama giving birth?"

"I don't know," Robin replied, shrugging his little shoulders. "Papa was scared though."

Mary nodded, heading up the stairs. "It's too soon," she told Francis as a governess headed down beside them to tend to the girls and Robin. "Just as the first time with Robin."

"I have every hope that she will be-"

They stopped when they saw Bash sitting down on the ground against the wall. He looked up when he heard their footsteps.

"Bash?" Mary asked breathlessly.

"They told me to wait outside," he told them. "Then the priest came and..." He covered his face, sighing heavily.

"Francis, why don't you and Bash take a walk? I will see to Kenna," Mary suggested softly, bending down to squeeze Bash's shoulder before she headed inside.

Mary's heart leapt as she walked inside. The bed was caked with blood and her friend, her dear friend was in the middle of it, worn-out, pale and weak.

Mary turned to the side, a small baby swaddled up and already feeding from a wet nurse's chest.

"Y-Your Majesty," the priest breathed out, noticing her sudden appearance. "The Duchess asked if I could read her the last-"

"No," Mary whispered, shaking her head. "That won't be needed - Nostradamus-"

"My Queen," Nostradamus said softly. "She has lost too much blood and-"

"Rest. She needs rest, so let's get these sheets replaced so she can..." Mary trailed off, her eyes watering in premature grief.

She hurried to Kenna's side, holding her hand tight in hers as she brushed her hair back and whispered sweet nothings to her.

"A-Ana..." Kenna whispered, eyes wide. "Mary, I... I don't think I will make it. If I don't, tell them how much I love them..."

"Kenna, don't be stupid," Mary said shrilly. "You will be fine, you have to be. Robert and this baby need you. _Bash_ needs you. Without you, they can't... they won't..." _I won't cope._

Kenna smiled sadly, her smile weak. "Anastasia. Bash's grandmother who used to own my ring, she was Jeanne Anastasia. Mary, you have a niece, Anastasia Joanna."

Mary turned to look at the newborn. "Kenna, you will be fine. I am certain that in a few months, you will be reading Robin to sleep and holding Anastasia in your arms and you will feel _alive_."

"I hope for that," Kenna whispered. "I really do."

...

Dinner was quiet and as she ate, Mary couldn't help but stare at her daughters intently.

They had come on time, never too early or too late. They were living, breathing, walking, feeling people and they had their own personalities that reflected on them both.

As the girls shared a tart, Mary turned to Francis. "We should cut our trip short," she said quietly so the girls couldn't hear.

He looked up in slight agreement and slight disagreement. He was conflicted and he knew she was feeling that too.

"We need to tread carefully," she continued, sipping her wine. "I highly doubt us being here will allow Kenna to rest properly. Perhaps, we can take Robin with us. As much as we don't want to think about it but we should start sealing the girls' futures with marriage proposals. I spoke to Kenna about finding a suitable match for Robin as well."

"Has Bash agreed to it?" Francis asked, frowning slightly. "I know my brother, he does not care for the duties of a royal - he isn't one nor does he want to follow them."

"I think Kenna just wants the best for their son," Mary replied, shrugging. "Her and Bash were forced to wed, she at least wants Robin to have a say in his future. There would be many lovely girls attending. Just as you and Lola did for John's future. Also, you can't deny that even though he is the bastard brother of a king, he is still a royal person."

Francis smiled wryly. "I doubt he sees it that way, Mary. And I agree, we should go back to the Court. Although a few days, can we agree that they were well spent?"

Mary grinned. "I can. Some moments more than others..."

"I am glad you see it that way. I most certainly enjoyed our daughters praying in the chapel as well," Francis replied, receiving a light hit from his wife. "Oh, you meant the waterfall?" He asked coyly.

"You are such a tease!" Mary told him, giggling. "You should tell Bash of our plans to leave. We wouldn't want to get in their way."

"I will, right now," Francis told her, kissing her forehead as well as the girls'.

She smiled at him, watching as he left before turning to see Anne doing Rose's hair.

They were so innocent and sweet and she was proud of them. Each time she gave birth, she came back fighting fit.

Shortly after giving birth to Robin, Kenna had fallen ill and had been confined for two weeks. Something told Mary that it would be longer this time, the woman couldn't even get off from the bed like she could the first time after Mary found out she was expecting Rose.

"Anne, Rose?"

"Yes, Mama?" They asked.

"Would you like to help me make a flower crown for Auntie Kenna? She is very unwell and we should make her feel better," Mary said to them.

Rose nodded. "Can Robin join us?"

Mary beamed. "Of course, he can."

Even though she wished and prayed for a son, she loved her girls very dearly. Her girls, who would become powerful women in the future. Her legacies.

"Girls? I love you very much, I want you both to know," Mary told them. "We may spend a lot of time with your brother, but never forget that Papa and I love you too."

She smiled when her daughters planted kisses on her cheeks, her arms squeezing them tight against her frame. Another thing she was glad for every time she gave birth, was her ability to return to her usual figure.

Not that Francis did not love her gaining weight.

"Alright, let us find Robin and cheer him up too," she said, standing up and reaching her hands for them to take.

Mary smiled to herself. They were her little princesses.


	13. A Journey Home For The Queen

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**Guest (1) [chapter 12]: No worries, enjoy the next!**

**Guest (2) [chapter 12]: Here are some more girls/Frary moments! We even have a little bit more sibling rivalry.**

**Guest (3) [chapter 12]: They're so adorable! Anne is so independent and smart and so is Rose. They will be amazing people. Here's the next chapter!**

* * *

"Mama," Anne called her mother as they sat in the carriage on their way home. "What does it mean to be a _queen_?"

Mary turned to her daughter. "You have to make a lot of hard decisions and be just in how you rule."

"Papa says he's only the consort for Scotland. I thought France and Scotland were his," Anne said.

"No, Anne," Francis cut into their conversation. "Mama is the Queen of Scotland. I was the Dauphin of France when we were married. After your grandfather died, I became the King of France and King Consort of Scotland. You are half-Scottish and half-French."

"So, Mama is more powerful than you are?" Rose asked, eyes wide with pride and excitement.

Francis chuckled, sharing a look with his wife. "In more ways than you think-"

"Francis..." Mary trailed off warningly. "Papa and I are _equals_. Monarchs in our own rights."

"Why isn't Uncle Bash a prince? Isn't he Papa's older brother?" Anne asked.

Francis sighed. "You see, children can only be royals if they are legitimate. That means if your parents are married. Your grandfather had your uncle outside his marriage so he is illegitimate and cannot be classified as a prince. He's the next best thing - a duke."

"Is Robin illegitimate if his papa is?" Rose asked curiously.

Mary shook her head. "No. Robin is legitimate because his parents are married to each other. His father's status has no ruling on his and Robin is an earl."

"Will I marry an earl?" Anne asked her parents.

"You do not need to worry about that right now," her father told her. "It's a shame Robin couldn't come along. I am sure he would have loved to play with you both."

"At least we were right. Auntie Kenna had a girl!" Rose said happily. "When she visits us, I will show her all of my toys and she can play on my rocking horse!"

Mary bit her lip. It would be a while until they saw any of the de Poitiers family. They'd left Kenna confined to her bedchambers with her husband sleeping in a separate one. Even Robin had noticed the tense air in his home and was anxious to be around his little sister.

The whole family was on edge and Mary couldn't help but count her blessings.

"Kenna is strong, she will get through this," Francis whispered into her ear as he picked her hand up and squeezed it. "Stop worrying - Bash promised to write the minute we arrive at the castle."

"Look at our daughters, Francis," Mary replied, just as quietly. "They came on time and Kenna... She loses herself every time she goes through childbirth. One day, she might not come back."

Francis nodded sadly. "Well, let's just pray. All of us can get through anything when we have each other."

He kissed her hand and laughed when his daughters began voicing out their disgust over their parents' little moment.

"When you both get married, you will see exactly how I act when someone touches my girls," Francis warned lightly much to Mary's amusement.

...

As soon as they arrived at the castle, the couple were whisked away on business. They immediately cursed themselves for cutting their trip away so short because they had intended on spending time with the girls.

By the time they were done with whatever France or Scotland needed, it was night time and that meant bedtime for the children.

With James in Francis's arms, he and Mary entered their eldest daughter's bedchamber and found Rose sneaking underneath the covers inconspicuously.

"Come out, Rosie," Anne said to her sister. "It's just Mama and Papa."

Rose peeped her head out shyly and once she confirmed her sister's words, she threw the covers off her head and smiled widely at their parents.

"Grandmama said I was not allowed in Anne's bed. Uncle Bash and Auntie Kenna allowed us to sleep together in Avon!" Rose explained, getting out of the bed to pull Mary towards it.

"Papa, come too!" Anne said, patting a spot on the huge bed. "Read us a story, the French one with the voices."

Rose nodded. "Uncle Bash doesn't do the voices properly. He is very horrible and I feel for Robin."

"You both are too smart for our liking," Francis said lightly as he sat down. "Would you both like to kiss James?"

The girls scowled, shaking their heads.

"It's always about _James_. What about us?" Anne said angrily. "He's annoying and he's a boy! We do not play with boys."

"You play with Robin," Mary stated, amused.

The girls faltered.

"He's not annoying like James!" Rosie said. "James cries all the time. Robin never cries because he's _brave_."

"You do know that James is a baby, don't you?" Francis asked his daughters. "Until he is older, he will be crying a lot to tell us what he needs. He isn't grown like you are."

"Will James be our king, Papa?" Anne asked.

Francis nodded. "When I am gone, James will rule France and Scotland."

"So he is very important?" Rose asked, sadly.

Mary lifted her chin. "Yes, but so are you both. You will both be very important to other people as well."

"We are?"

"You are," Mary affirmed. "Now, let's hear Papa read your favourite book with _better_ voices."

When he was finished, Rose let out a sneeze.

"God bless you," Mary said with Francis mimicking her words.

Rose groaned, rubbing her nose. "I don't feel well," she said. "I feel icky."

"'Icky'?" Francis asked in alarm as Mary placed the back of her hand against Rose's head.

She turned to her husband. "She is running a fever. Has Nostradamus returned from Avon?"

He shook his head. "I'll fetch the nurse."

"Hurry," his wife replied, bringing James into her arms as Anne tucked Rose into her bed. "How long have you been feeling unwell, Rose?"

Rose shook her head, shielding her eyes from the light. "I told Uncle Bash and Auntie Kenna. I felt better though when he read me a story..."

"A couple of days," Mary said to herself.

It must have been from the time she swam in the lake. Both girls had suffered from chills after resulting in warmer fires being made.

"Don't worry, sweetling. Mama and Papa will make you feel all better."

Mary brushed Rose's hair back, planting a kiss onto her forehead. She had to be careful though.

Poor James was still very fragile.

Sending a quick apology to the governess she had dismissed early for family time, she handed the baby to her.

"If you could sit with him during the night, that would be much appreciated. Also, call the other governess to look after Anne," Mary said. "The King and I will remain by Rose's side."

That night, Anne slept in Rose's bedchamber as Rose remained in hers, too weak to move.

The little girl was happy to have both of her parents sleeping beside her, whispering encouraging and loving things into her ear as Francis read more stories.

When she finally fell asleep, Mary soon followed with Francis planting kisses onto both Rose and Mary's foreheads before he slipped out of the bed and sat by Anne's side.

He couldn't ignore his other important girl in his life.


	14. A Visit Home For The Queen

**I have recently made a book for sale on Amazon. That took most of my days and this took most of my nights as well as life in general. Now that the book is finished, I can fully focus on here.**

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* * *

"Francis, it is improper for a king to sit at his ailing child's bedside," Catherine said as they walked towards his offices. "What if you get sick? We do not know what the child has."

"_That child_ is your granddaughter, Mother," Francis snapped. "You may focus on James, but Anne and Rose are your grandchildren as well."

Catherine rolled her eyes, walking ahead. "You cannot place the whole future of France on James's shoulder," she said. "You and Mary must be quick with another son. Five should do it."

Francis stopped. "_Five sons_? Mary and I may want a large family, but not based on your wants-"

"You have two daughters and one son, Francis! That is a weakness that will be used against you," Catherine cut him off, turning to face him. "France cannot rely on James."

"You never mention Scotland," Francis stated. "Mary and I rule Scotland."

"And one day you will have England," his mother said firmly. "This night, claim Mary and for the love of God, do _not_ tend to Rose. We can't have an ill king."

That night, Francis went against one wish of his mother's.

After leaving Mary sleeping in their bed, he snuck into Rose's bedchamber, the girl having being moved that morning.

"Papa?" She croaked out, letting out a cough. "Grandmama said you couldn't stay with me."

"I want to, my love," he replied, getting into the bed.

Rose beamed. "Can you read me a-" She began coughing, letting out a frustrated groan afterwards. "I hate being sick, Papa... Where's Mama?"

"She's asleep," Francis told her, grabbing a storybook. "She was very tired from today."

"Will I have to do what you and Mama do when I grow up? Meet boring people?"

Francis laughed. "Well, we will see. Let's read this book, shall we?"

...

The next morning, Mary snuck her way towards Rose's bedchamber, just as Francis had done last night.

She knew of her husband's disappearing act and even giggled to herself when he was caught by the ear by Catherine. He may well be Catherine's son, but she wasn't her daughter and she had no hold over her.

"Rosie!" She called out, kissing her daughter's cooled head. "Has Anne visited?"

"She said she could not get sick," Rose replied sadly. "Will you stay with me, Mama?"

Mary nodded, handing Rose a bunch of flowers that Anne had picked. "We can make flower crowns."

"Oh, can we?" Rose asked, excitement in her eyes. "Will I have to do my studies?"

"I think we can let you off for a day," Mary told her, starting her chain. "What do you think about having another sibling?"

Rose gasped in horror. "Mama, are you-"

"No," Mary quickly said. "But Papa and I are thinking about it. We have two daughters, maybe we'd like two sons."

"But not now? Please...!"

"No, not now," Mary said, laughing. "We already have our hands full with you, Anne and James."

Mary's mind strayed to Kenna who had written her a letter. Well, dictated it for Bash to write.

They decided that no more children will be in their future and that Mary, Francis and the children were welcome back at their home any time.

"Would you like to visit Scotland?" Mary asked her daughter, running her fingers through the blonde's hair.

"_Scotland_?" Rose squeaked out. "Isn't that far?"

Mary nodded. "It is, but it's where Mama was born and grew up. We need to take you out of France more. See the world."

"Can Robin come?"

Mary smiled brightly. Even though they would stop at the castle, she doubted that she would be willing to stay there. It held too many hurtful memories.

She had planned to stay in the Beatons' castle, fonder memories within those walls and she didn't mind introducing Francis to her distant relatives either. Unfortunately, she wouldn't be able to bring the de Poitiers family because of Kenna's ill health despite Kenna being a part of the family.

Perhaps she could convince her and Bash to let them take Robin. The boy had yet to meet his mother's side.

"We will see, I will ask your aunt and uncle," Mary replied.

Rose clapped happily, continuing to work on her flower crown.

"It seems that someone is feeling better," Mary said lightly.

Rose blushed. "I am, but not that much. Thank you, Mama."

"You're welcome, sweetling."

...

Home.

It had been a gruelling journey to Scotland and after stopping by the castle to see James, the family and Robin made their way to Castle Barton.

Duke Beaton was a tall man in his fifties. He had changed his diet, resulting in better health and the smile on his face when he saw Robin for the first time. His namesake of a grandson.

"Your Majesty," he said upon seeing her, bowing lowly.

"Enough of that nonsense, Uncle," Mary replied, bringing him for a tight hug. "You are looking very well."

"A change of food would do that," he said lightly, ruffling Robin's hair. "I heard what happened to my daughter. Thank you for bringing my grandson."

Mary smiled brightly, stepping aside for her family to come closer. "Meet my husband, King Francis II of France," she said, taking her husband's hand.

Duke Beaton bowed. "Your Grace," he replied. "It is a pleasure and my honour to welcome you. It is not the chateau of France-"

"But it is my wife's fond home," Francis cut him off, giving Mary a smile. "I am happy to be here."

"We shouldn't forget to introduce our children," Mary said. "Anne, Rose and James."

Robert eyed the children. "They look like your father," he stated. "You must be very proud."

Mary's eyes watered. She couldn't even remember what her father looked like. Apparently, her children looked like him. At least she could look at them and hold his memory dear to her heart.

"We are," she whispered, sniffling. "Oh, my allergies. Shall we?"

...

When she and Francis got to their bedchamber after leaving the children with Robert and his sons, she was surprised to see it full of rose flowers.

"Kenna..." Mary breathed out in wonder, picking one up as her husband looked around, baffled.

"Why do we have roses everywhere?"

She giggled, slipping the stem onto his ear. "Remember, I told you about this? Kenna gifting me roses when we were little?"

She squealed when he picked her up and placed her onto the bed, attaching his lips to hers.

When he pulled away, he said, "Well, she knows how to set the scene."

"Francis!" Mary squealed out, laughing. "What if we're needed?"

"No one will dare disturb us," he replied, waving her fear off. "I know my mother is pressuring us to make another male heir, but Mary I want what you want."

Mary nodded nervously. "I do want more children, just not now. As for securing the Valois-Stuart line... We can't deny that she speaks the truth."

"Then should we write a new law? Make the girls James's heirs?"

"I know I should not fear this, but that will cause unsettlement in both of our countries. Especially what is going on with England," she replied.

Francis sighed. "Well, our children are all Catholic-"

"And could still be threatened. We could have died just by making this journey to Scotland, Francis!" Mary cried out. "I hate how your mother gets to me... She should _not_ rule our lives and having the girls terrorise her is not enough."

"What are you saying?"

"I want her gone. If James _and_ the girls are to be safe, we need her gone. Exile her to Italy when we return home."

Francis searched his wife's eyes. He knew better than to argue, she meant business and that scared him.

"Whatever you want, I will make it happen," he replied, kissing her lips. "Shall we spend some time with each other before-"

"Mama!"

"Dear God," Mary muttered, a smile creeping onto her face as she turned to the children. "Anne, Rose, Robin."

"Grandpapa said that you and my mama always went to the lake," Robin said. "Can you take us to the lake, Your Majesty?"

Mary tutted as her husband left her side to carry Rose into his arms. She walked up to them and cupped Robin's cheek.

"Robin, you are too formal," she told him.

"Grandmama told me to tell him that he should call you and Papa, 'Your Majesty'," Anne explained.

Mary shared an annoyed glance with her husband. She looked back down at Robin.

"We're your aunt and uncle, dear boy," Francis said. "Now, who wants to go swimming in Scottish waters?"

"Me!"


	15. An Unsettled Feeling In The Queen

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* * *

Mary's eyes opened and she could feel an unsettling feeling at the pit of her stomach. She turned her head to see Francis fast asleep, their journey finally catching up to him.

"Francis?" She whispered gently, nudging his shoulder.

Without opening his eyes, he replied, "Yes, Mary?"

"Something's not right," she said, sitting up. "Do you know the time?"

She turned to the wall herself, looking at the golden grandfather clock against it. It was just past eleven at night.

"Mary?"

She shook her head. "I don't know what it is. Something isn't right."

She got out of bed, slipping her robe over her nightdress and slipped her feet into velvet slippers. She then headed towards the doors and opened them, heading towards the children's bedchambers.

She found Rose fast asleep in her bed, but when she got to Anne's bedchamber, it was empty.

She searched everywhere, her heart leaping inside her chest. She then headed towards Robin's bedchamber - his bed was also empty and unkempt.

"Guards!" She called out, running out of the bedchamber.

The guards immediately reacted, asking her what was going on.

"Did you see the princess and earl leave their bedchambers?" She demanded as two guards entered the chambers.

"No, Your Majesty-"

Then it dawned on her and she went back into Anne's bedchamber, heading towards the wall the bed laid against.

As a girl, she would use the secret tunnels to escape the castle with Kenna. They knew Kenna's parents discovered their little disappearing acts, but the couple never scolded them.

They were heavily guarded and the tunnels led to the dining rooms and gardens. They were safe.

Going through the tunnels, she headed down the steps and kept going until she could smell the seawater from the sea surrounding the coastal castle.

She opened the latch of the trapdoor and found two shivering children sitting meekly by it outside.

"Marie Anne and Robert Francis!" She scolded, breathing a huge sigh of relief as she brought them to her chest, "What on God's Earth possessed you to leave your bedchambers?"

She slipped her robe over Anne's shoulders and hugged Robin tighter so he could also have warmth.

At least the rain had stopped.

"Grandpapa told us stories of you and Mama escaping the castle to play. We wanted to see the fireflies," Robin explained, his nose reddening in the chill air. "The door closed shut behind us."

"You won't get any fireflies in this weather. Also, there's a trick we learnt after the third time being locked out," Mary replied gently. "Come along, inside."

She let the children go through the trap door first and followed behind, shivering as she closed the door.

_Silly children_, she thought, amused.

When they came through the secret door in Anne's bedchamber, they found Francis pacing. He turned to them in relief, bringing the children to his chest tightly.

"Mary, you just left leaving me confused. When I met the guards, they said you disappeared as well," he told her, kissing Anne's head.

"I should have known they would use the escape doors. I never knew my uncle told them," she replied, retrieving blankets to warm the children. "I'll have fires prepared for both of them."

"Robert, Anne, promise us you will never leave without our say so," Francis said, kneeling down to reach their eyes. "Anything could have happened to you. Do you think your parents would be happy if something happened to their only son, Robin?"

Robin shook his head. "No, Uncle Francis. I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Francis told him, brushing Anne's cheek. "The world is a dangerous place and not always can we, your parents, protect you."

Robin looked up at him. "My papa will always protect me, he promised."

Francis shared a look with Mary. Well, they couldn't tell a child that their parents would break their promise if it was out of their control.

"Well, I know my brother," Francis said to the boy. "And he never breaks his promises."

Mary nodded. "As for you, Anne... You need to be careful. Scotland may be my home, but I do not know the dangers that lurk beneath the surface. It has been a very long time since I have been here."

"I know, Mama," Anne said, her eyes watering. "I'm sorry."

"When we wake up tomorrow morning, we will visit the lake again. The Duke is hosting a party in your honour," Francis told the children. "Let's get you to sleep."

"Can you read me a story again, Papa?" Anne asked sweetly.

Mary raised an eyebrow. "Don't push it, Anne," she said lightly. "But if you promise to never sneak out during the night, we might see what we can do."

"I promise!"

...

As Duke Beaton played with the children, pretending that they were pirates and he was the big, ugly monster, Mary and Francis took a stroll away from the party.

"I hate to imagine what things Anne and Rose will get up to when they're teenagers," Francis told his wife, offering his arm. "God, escaping castle halls with secret doors and trap doors..."

She linked hers with his. "Same here. I even believe James will be such a lothario, going around and breaking hearts..." She sighed wistfully. "Children are such blessings."

"It is Anne's birthday soon," Francis stated. "Six years of age already... It feels like yesterday we were welcoming her into the world."

"It most certainly feels like that, doesn't it?" Mary asked, a smile growing on her face. "Our little Anne."

"My mother would want to be there..."

Mary rolled her eyes. "Francis, she barely acknowledges Anne. If this is her way of making amends, I will not stand for it. I stand by my decision and we will let her know that when we return. Most of all, I will _not_ allow her to step foot in Scotland."

"Mary, she's my mother," Francis replied.

"And Marie de Guise was mine," she stated nonchalantly. "Now, she's dead. I will do anything to protect my girls even if it means treating family like they are enemies. Speaking of family, Lola and John will arrive for Anne's birthday."

"Alright," Francis said quietly as they continued on. "How large of an affair will it be?"

Mary shrugged. "I do not want to be too boastful. My uncle has graciously offered to host it here and although it is a large castle, I do not want to overstep our welcome."

"We're the king and queen-"

"And there have already been English raids at Castle Barton and so many other surrounding estates," Mary cut her husband off softly. "Just the week before we arrived, Duke Beaton had to deal with an English convoy treading into his waters. If we invite many people, there is a strong chance that they will know we are here and will harm us. Hosting us is a huge risk to everyone"

"I understand," he replied, nodding. "What else is there to do here?"

Mary smiled widely. "There are a vineyard and orchard on the grounds," she told him. "We could perhaps make our own cider or wine..."

She wrapped her arms around his neck coyly, tilting her head to the side.

"Kenna and I used to use our imagination when we were growing up. I know we are adults now, but I'd like to be free..." She trailed off, studying his eyes. "Like how we were at the waterfall in Avon."

Francis pressed a kiss onto her lips, bringing her frame closer to his. "Just how free would you like to be?"

"Oh, I'd like to stay up and study the stars," she began. "Or play football! Remember when your mother scolded me for playing football when we were little?"

Her husband looked around and he finally spotted an acorn on the ground. Bending down, he picked it up and handed the small rounded object to his wife.

"Football it is," he said with a smile.

Mary lightly scoffed. "It's too small!"

"_Use your imagination_!" Francis told her mockingly, backing away from her. "Go on."

She giggled, dropping the acorn onto the ground and kicking it towards his way. She watched as it shot past him and landed a few metres behind him.

"Still got it," she said to herself, lifting up her skirts so she could volley the acorn when he kicked it back.

"Would you ever want to live in Scotland again?" Francis asked her, stopping the acorn from flying past him before kicking towards her.

Mary shrugged, relaying the acorn back to him. "Sometimes I think about that. You are the male, I follow you."

"No, Mary - we're equals. I've been thinking about it, I even mentioned it to Kenna's eldest brother when he told me he was thinking about doing business in France," Francis replied. "Six months in France and six months in Scotland, every year for the rest of our reign."

Mary halted, her eyes looking up to meet his. "W-What?" She breathed out.

"Scotland is your home. And think about it, we're closer to England here should anything happen in the future," Francis said. "What do you say?"

Mary didn't know what to say. She had been happy to once again step foot in Scotland and now, she had the chance to physically show the subjects of her strength and persistence to rule Scotland. Now she could show them that she was her father's daughter.

"I don't know," she whispered.

She could oversee her council physically, see the issues for herself and so many other things. She could even raise her children and allow them a chance to know the Scottish half of themselves.

"Mary," Francis called her name gently, standing in front of her now. "I want you to be happy. I want you to be the queen I know you can be for Scotland. Scotland is _yours_, it's _home_ and you deserve to have somewhere else to be free and safe at. Like in this castle as I know you are uncomfortable in France... I think we should take that step."

"I do too," Mary said happily, tears leaking from her eyes. "Francis, you make me so hot and cold, and I love you for it. You make me so happy, thank you so much."

She kissed him and when she pulled away, she saw Rose standing behind him.

"Mama, Papa?"

"We're coming," Mary said, turning back to her husband. "Thank you."

"You are very welcome."


	16. A Celebration With The Queen

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* * *

Mary sipped her wine, watching as Anne opened her presents. It was the third month that they had been in Scotland and Mary couldn't remember the last time she celebrated her birthday in Scotland.

"Mama!" Anne called out, gasping at the contents of one large box. "Aunt Lola got me a dollhouse!"

Mary gave her daughter a wide smile, getting up from her seat to hover over her shoulder and nod in approval. She looked up and saw Lola blushing furiously as she held John by her side.

"John, why don't you come and see?" Mary asked him, beckoning him over. "I am sure Anne will need help to play with these."

John looked up at Lola who gave him an encouraging nod. He then sat beside Rose and gave Anne a bright smile.

Mary would never stop her children from knowing their half-brother. He was still Francis's son and they now had an heir. They will also have more sons along the way.

"Aunt Mary?" Robin asked, looking up at her. "When will my mama and papa come?"

"Very soon," Mary assured him, ruffling his hair. "If you and John want to do so, you can join Francis at the stables."

"Yes," Francis said, entering the room. "You wouldn't want to play with dolls with the girls, would you?"

"No," the boys said, both eagerly giving Anne other presents.

A while later, the boys had gone with Francis and Lola had excused herself. Mary started to play with the girls, pretending she was the mother doll as both girls took on the daughters and other family members.

"Mama, we've been here for a _long_ time," Rose stated. "Are we ever going to go home?"

Mary smiled softly. "Rosie, Papa and I explained-"

She was cut off by the governess entering with James in her arms. She gave the queen an apologetic look, gesturing to James.

"He wants his mother, Ma'am," she said, offering the child.

Mary beamed, accepting her son and kissing his head as he began to suck his thumb. She would have to wean him off, his sisters never sucked their thumbs when they were babies.

"As I was saying," Mary continued as the governess went to sit down and watch them vigilantly. "Papa and I explained that we will be living at Castle Barton for six months each year _and_ in France. You have two homes, my sweetlings so Mama can overlook Scotland personally."

"Does that mean that I will have another bedchamber like I have in Avon?" Anne asked excitedly.

Mary chuckled, nodding. "Yes. And the Duke has kindly organised a few horses for you and your sister to own as well as Robin."

Anne gasped. "Really? I want another pony!"

"We will see what we can do for your birthday," Mary replied. "Now, who wants to try some cake?"

Without even needing to reply, the girls got up and hurried to the grand hall with Mary following behind at a slower pace with the governess.

The cake was five tiers tall and very _pink_.

"Take some from the back. We have guests coming to wish you well," Mary said, gesturing for the governess to help them.

"Do they have to come?" Anne whined. "I just want you, Papa, Rosie and James."

Mary sighed wistfully. "I want that too. Papa told the Duke of my plans for a more private affair, but well..."

"The Duke wants a _big_ one?" Anne asked. "But it's my birthday!"

"I know, sweetheart," Mary said softly. "I think the Duke is excited to host a princess's birthday. I promise you that this night, it will just be us."

Anne accepted her answer before taking a bite from her cake. She looked up at her mother happily, seemingly approving of her birthday cake.

"Thank you, Mama," she said sweetly.

"You're very welcome, Anne," Mary replied, almost breathlessly.

Many years ago, she was not a mother. Anne had given her a beautiful gift and now, tears sprung to her eyes at the realisation that she was growing up quicker than she wanted.

Her little Annie.

She placed James on the ground and he immediately started to crawl for his sisters.

"I will be right back," she promised her children before heading outside to meet Francis who had just ridden into the stables, the boys already getting off their horses.

"Mary," he greeted. "Is Anne enjoying her gifts?"

Mary smiled. "She's moved onto the cake already. Although the present from that Russian oligarch seemed to peak her taste in priceless jewels."

"Is that right?" Francis asked, grinning. "My mother sent her something. It's in our bedchamber."

"She will accept it," Mary said tersely. "She is still her grandmother after all."

"Thank you," Francis said, sighing in relief. "Mary, I do hope for us to make things right with her. We have not had any word of her conspiring with the English. Perhaps it was just to gain some intelligence-"

"It's Anne's birthday," Mary cut him off gently. "No talking of conspiracies or any of the sort. Anyway, I was thinking about something..."

Francis nodded, handing the reins to a stableboy. "Go ahead."

They left the stables, smiling at the boys who were being shooed into the house by a governess.

"Nobody can hear us here," Mary said once they were a fair distance away from prying ears.

"You're scaring me, M-"

"I want another child."

Francis laughed. "I know. Why are-"

"Now," she firmly stated. "Anne's is growing up so quickly and before we know it, we will be waving her off 'goodbye'. I know we've already had talks about it, but maybe we are ready now."

"Dear Lord," Francis muttered. "And James will turn one soon... Mary, are you-"

"I am," she assured him. "_We_ are."

A smile grew on his face and he kissed her. "What will Anne think if we give her another sibling in exactly nine months since her birthday?" He asked cheekily.

"She won't like it, but Rose will be fine with the idea," Mary replied teasingly. "I love you, Francis."

"I love you, Mary," he replied, kissing her forehead.

When they arrived at the house, they saw a carriage pull up and Mary immediately knew who it was.

Already feeling broody, she didn't wait until the door opened to do it herself, reaching inside to collect the baby inside.

"Welcome home, Kenna," she quickly said much to everyone's amusement as she stared at the baby. "She's grown so much!"

"She has," Kenna said, accepting Bash's hand to step down from the carriage. "She's awfully loud as well. I am surprised she has not started to wail in your presence."

Mary giggled. "She's fine. Aren't you Anastasia?" She asked the baby. "Oh, I can't wait to have another one."

"Didn't you just have James?" Bash teased, heading inside with Francis beside him.

The women followed after.

"He will turn one soon," Francis defended him and his wife. "It wouldn't hurt to have another baby in the castle."

"It wouldn't, no," Kenna said softly, a thin smile on her face. The smile then relaxed when she set eyes on her father for the first time in _years_.

"My darling daughter," Robert breathed out.

Before he could even get an inch towards her, Robin and the girls ran towards their parents.

"Papa, Mama!" Robin cried out.

"Mama, can you come and play with us again?" Anne asked her mother, grabbing Francis's hand. "And you too, Papa. Grandpapa Robert said that everyone will be coming soon."

Mary shared a sympathetic glance towards Kenna's way before giving Anne a nod. Time for familial reconciliations was for later.

Now, it was Anne's special day and Mary couldn't be any less proud of the strong, resilient girl her daughter was.

"Come along," she said, starting to lead the children away. "We might have some room for tarts!"

She felt like a mother hen. Like she was _born_ to be a mother. She was a natural leader, being a queen and a natural mother.

Maybe she and Francis could handle four children this soon.


	17. An Interesting Book For The Queen

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* * *

"I'm scared," Mary told Francis.

His eyes twinkled when he reached out to take James from her. He then crossed his arms when she refused to give her baby to his father.

"The sooner we get him used to it, he will be a natural!" Francis told her, thrusting his arms out again. "His sisters are now experts."

Mary's eyes drifted to where Anne and Rose were playing with John and Robin in the lake with Bash supervising all four children.

"He's not ready," she argued much to Francis's and Kenna's amusement.

"There's no harm in letting him play in the lake for a little bit," Kenna told her, fanning herself. "The weather's great and he looks like he wants to enjoy it as well."

Mary looked down to see her son reaching out in the direction of his sisters, babbling excitedly when Anne sprayed Rose with water.

"Oh alright," Mary relented, handing James to Francis. "Be careful with him. He's my-"

"Little baby, we know," Francis said, laughing as he got into the lake. "Just spend time with Kenna. You were complaining about how much you missed her."

Mary blushed, giving her husband a playful glare before she laid down on her stomach and took a peek at what Kenna was reading.

"What is that?" She asked.

Kenna blushed furiously. "Oh, a book I found years ago..." She trailed off teasingly, handing the book to Mary.

Scanning the page, Mary gasped, quickly turning to their husbands and then Kenna again.

"This is-"

"Smut, I know," Kenna said, giggling. "Oh, don't worry. I never read it when Bash or Robin are near. I found it whilst I was cleaning out our bedchamber."

Mary swallowed deeply, reading on. "H-Have you...?"

"Mary, I will not tell you about my sex life with my husband!"

"You used to tell us all about it with his father," Mary retorted with a grin.

Kenna paused. "Fine," she said. "Yes, Bash and I have tried a few _things_. He doesn't know I have it, he thought it was a nature book."

"Of some kind!" Mary cried out, gaining both men's attention. "We are trying to find a particular bird. Carry on!" She called out to them.

Kenna laughed. "When did you become such a good liar?"

"How can you tell if someone is lying or not?"

"My husband," Kenna said, sighing wistfully. "I've stopped asking questions about his duties and everything that happens outside of our estate."

"What do you mean?"

Kenna gave her a small smile, shaking her head. "Bash spends more time away than at home, with us. Francis has him taking on more duties now that Robin is older."

"I... I didn't know," Mary said sadly.

"It's alright," Kenna quickly told her. "We've been distant lately, but this is helping. Being away from France, his duties and our bad memories..."

Mary sighed. "And how are you feeling?"

"Better than I have been feeling in a long time," Kenna replied. "Childbirth is daunting, isn't it?"

"Well, I hope that I am with child very soon," Mary said. "I find it exhilarating."

"Do not test your mortality," Kenna warned her. "Also, the more you're with child, the less you can focus on your duties to Scotland."

Mary nodded. "That is true, but Francis and I work together for the better of both France and Scotland."

"Mama!" Anne called out to her. "Come and join us!"

Mary sat up, kissing Kenna's cheek before taking her dress and corset off to leave her in her undergarments.

With Francis's help, she waded into the lake and joined them in a game of 'Duck, Duck and Goose'.

"Kenna!" She called her friend. "Do you remember playing this as girls?"

"I do!" Kenna replied, a faint blush on her cheeks as her eyes continued to read the book.

Mary smiled a little, an idea forming in her mind. If she could get that book...

"Goose!" Rose cried out, tapping her mother's back.

Mary gasped and swam to chase after Rose. The little girl was too quick for her and soon, Mary had chosen Francis as 'goose', willingly letting herself be caught by her husband.

Their lips met in a long kiss as she wrapped her arms around his neck and his own found her waist.

"Mama, Papa!" Anne whined, covering her eyes.

"Do you both mind?" Bash's teasing voice asked them, covering the boys' eyes. "Young eyes are aware."

The couple pulled apart, laughing at their reactions.

"I'll have you know, you need to treat your own wife with more affection," Mary replied, pinching his shoulder.

Bash jumped from the unexpected pain and gave her a glare to which Francis laughed at him.

"I'll have _you_ know, that she receives more affection than any other lady in Scotland and France," he replied, getting out of the lake to walk over to Kenna.

Mary watched on, intrigued. She saw him whisper something into Kenna's ear which seemed to surprise her.

Kenna then stood up, shedding her dress and corset before following him into the lake.

"If you don't mind looking after the children?" Kenna said quickly before they swam towards the waterfall.

Mary gaped as Francis burst into laughter.

"What just happened?" She asked her husband, turning to him. "Did they just go to...?"

"Are we any better? Kissing like school children in front of actual children?" Francis retorted, kissing her lips. "We need to save James from Anne - she's starting to lose grip."

Mary swam towards her son and eldest daughter, collecting her son and kissing his head.

"Do you think James likes water?" She asked Anne.

"Yes, Mama! He's almost as good as me!" Anne replied.

Mary grinned, she knew it was very unlikely. James was a baby after all, but she allowed the children to have some imagination.

That was why Mary loved their trips to the lake. She ought to have some sort of pool constructed back in France and hire a swimming teacher.

She shook her head. Why was she thinking about France when she was living in the present in Scotland?

Scotland, her home and sanctuary.

"The first one to annoy the Duke and Duchess of Avon," Francis began, her eyes turning to him warningly. "Gets two slices of cake!"

"Francis!" She breathed out, watching the children start swimming towards the waterfall.

Francis turned to his wife, laughing. "Don't think I don't know what book you both were reading. Bash told me all about it and pretends he doesn't know about it."

Mary gasped. "F-Francis-"

"It's kind of funny. The kind of things you ladies get up to at Court," he said, chuckling. "Do you really think none of the men knew about that book? It's been around for God knows how many years."

"I just found out about it today," Mary defended herself. "I do not need an image of your brother's sex life with my cousin and best friend."

"Neither do I," Francis said, hearing a frustrated cry come from the waterfall. "I think Anne has earned her two slices."

Mary hit his chest. "You better offer to take their children off their hands so they can spend proper time together. We have every day, they barely get an hour."

"I know. There is a lot at stake in France and I need my most trusted by my side," Francis told her. "That includes Bash."

"Of course," she replied. "But not at the expense of his marriage. Now, I am suddenly craving some cake..."


	18. A Lick of Literature For The Queen

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****Guest (2) [chapter 17]: More scenes like those will come very soon! The book will be a highlight in an upcoming chapter where there will be a childfree break. You're very welcome and enjoy the next chapter!****

* * *

Mary's eyes widened when she opened the trunk. She quickly dismissed the servant and requested him to call Kenna for her.

"What did you have imported?" Francis asked her curiously as he hovered over her shoulder.

She quickly shut the trunk closed. "Not me. Kenna. The servant must have believed it was mine and brought it here instead."

"That is an easy fix, we can call him to-"

"I've called her here. Do you mind excusing us, my love?" Mary asked sweetly, standing to kiss him.

Francis raised his eyebrows. "_What_ is inside that?"

"I plan to ask Kenna," she replied, kissing his cheek.

"Your Majesties - the Duchess of Avon, Kenna," the doorman announced, letting Kenna inside.

Francis gave Kenna a suspicious look before leaving her baffled at why she was summoned and why she received that look.

"Why was Francis looking at me as if I'd done something horrific?" She asked, chuckling a little.

Mary opened the trunk and pointed at its contents. "Kenna, look!"

Kenna looked down and gasped happily, pulling a garment out of the trunk. "The lingerie sets I ordered from Italy!"

"Italy? You know how I feel about Italy," Mary said lightly. "And _lingerie_?"

"It's common, Mary," Kenna replied, pressing one against her chest as she walked over to the mirror. "Since Bash and I have all of this time to spend with each other, might as well make it exciting and make him work for it."

Mary blushed. "_Work for it_?" She squeaked out. "Kenna!"

"The book says that women can be powerful when it comes to sex, Mary," Kenna explained. "Women may not be men's equals, but in the bedchamber... Well, let's just say it is _not_ Henry admiring what I have to offer."

"Dear God," Mary muttered. "Now, I can't get the images of you and Bash nor you and Henry out of my mind!"

"Oh, do get Henry and me out of your mind. I'd like to forget we ever happened," Kenna said dismissively. "By the way, lingerie is a really popular item now once again. It's very _modern_."

Mary cleared her throat. "I know that. I wore one on our wedding night."

"And after?"

"We never felt the need to _prepare_ to make love," Mary said. "This book is beyond me!"

Kenna giggled, going over to collect a blood-red set. "I plan to enjoy every single page of it. Well, not _every_ page. I do not believe I am that bendable-"

"Kenna!"

"Mary!" Kenna mockingly cried out. "Do you know what? The four of us need time away from the children. I love Ana and Robin, but Bash and I have a marriage to maintain."

Mary smiled a little, eyeing the navy set. "Go on, then."

Kenna handed her the lingerie and she disappeared behind the screen to get dressed into it. When she was done, she returned and twirled for Kenna to judge the set.

"Blue is really your colour," Kenna said approvingly.

Mary had noticed that she was in the red one. "All of these look wonderful on you. I look bloated in this!" She whined sadly.

"Don't be silly," Kenna told her. "And I _did_ order them for myself. You can keep that if you want. I am sure Francis will like to-"

"Mary, Kenna's father asked if-"

Both women froze, turning around to face Francis whose eyes widened.

"I-I... Excuse-"

"Francis, wait!" Mary called out, pulling him back into the bedchamber where he quickly covered his eyes.

"I am so sorry, Kenna. I did not know-"

"It's fine, Francis!" Kenna laughed, heading behind the screen.

Mary began to laugh, wrapping her arms around Francis's waist. "Kenna had them ordered from Italy. They were meant to bring excitement into her and Bash's sex life-"

"Dear, God," Francis muttered, his eyes still shut. "Please, do not talk about their sex life. I know I was eager to learn when we were younger, but we are both married men now."

"It was meant to be a surprise," Mary said, giggling. "Well, me having one for you."

"I've ruined the surprise. I am so sorry," he said. "I should-"

"Why don't Kenna and I take you and Bash to Linlithgow Palace where I was born?" She asked him. "A couples' retreat - many people of high status do it."

Francis pondered the idea as Kenna returned, fully dressed in what she was wearing before.

"Francis, you can look now," Kenna said, giggling.

He opened his eyes, a faint blush on his cheeks. "I will see what Bash thinks," he said.

"He'll agree," Kenna replied coyly. "He always agrees when it comes to me."

Francis swallowed deeply, his eyes trailing lower down his wife's body. "I believe there are c-children and h-horses that need my... attention."

"It seems as if your attention is on another thing," Mary whispered, much to her and his surprise.

"Mary!" Kenna gasped. "Are you enticing your husband?"

"Oh, do shut up, Kenna. It is _your_ lingerie that caused all of this!" Mary replied, laughing as Francis backed away. "I will see you after dinner. Kenna and I have some things to do."

Francis quickly left and Kenna pulled out a nude set from the trunk. "Trust me, that book will change your _life_."

...

_Be assertive_, Mary thought to herself as she and Kenna went to attend a private dinner with Kenna's father. Bash and Francis were already there, deciding to let the children be catered separated from them.

"Yes, I have been meaning to get into the land mine trade..." They could hear Robert say as they entered. His eyes met them. "Oh, we should put this conversation to bed. This is supper, business is for dessert."

"Or for afters," Kenna said warningly, taking a seat between her father at the head of the table and Bash.

Mary sat opposite her, beside Francis on the other head seat and Robert. She looked down and smiled happily.

"Haggis?" She said, surprised.

"It tastes wonderful," Bash told her. "I am surprised you never brought this cuisine to France." He looked between his wife and Mary who shared knowing looks.

"Trust me, if you knew what we knew, you might retract your statement," Kenna told her husband.

He halted in his actions to take a bite. "W-What?"

"Darling, you've eaten worse in the woods," Kenna said, biting the inside of her cheek to keep herself from laughing.

"Scottish whisky, my dears?" Robert asked, lifting the decanter.

Mary gave him her cup as Kenna did the same, Robert pouring the whisky into both cups.

"I do not remember the last time I have hosted an intimate event for a royal," Robert said. "I had the Russian prince come to stay for business a few years ago. It was a terrible experience."

"I bet it was," Mary said, sipping from her cup. "Uncle Robert, why don't you remarry? If not for heirs - you have three - for company."

Kenna sent Mary a look. "I am sure my father enjoys the life of a bach-"

"I have been thinking about that. One day, my namesake will inherit everything. Douglas has taken lands with his wife and Paisley has taken up residence in France with her husband. Perhaps, it is an idea now that Lachlan is to wed soon," Robert said, thoughtfully. "Alas, that is an issue to talk about for another day."

As they settled into a comfortable conversation over recent diplomatic matters in France and Scotland, Mary's foot found Francis's leg.

He stopped eating, looking up to raise an eyebrow at her as she gave him a small, flirtatious smile. Her foot went higher.

_Make him work for it_, Kenna's voice sounded in her mind. _Our bodies are weapons to the fragility of the man's mind_.

Mary cursed the book under her breath, stealing a nervous look with an amused Kenna. It seemed that her friend was trying her own husband on and it made Mary bite her lip in amusement when she knew that Bash had caught on quickly.

"Oh, Kenna," Bash said. "Perhaps we should go for a midnight stroll."

"Oh?" Kenna asked, her eyes lighting up. "Yes, of-"

"With your father. I would like to explore that cave he was talking about during his stories," Bash finished, smirking to himself. "You do not mind, Duke Beaton?"

"It is _Robert_ to you, dear son," Robert said, beaming. "Of course I do not!"

Kenna pressed a finger to her lips, resting her chin on her palm. "How _wonderful_, Sebastian and Father. Just... _great_."

"We might like to join you," Francis said making Mary's eyes widen.

She kicked him and he jolted, turning to her.

"Do not forget, it is James's midnight feed and we told the governess to take the night off," Mary told him, glaring at him.

"I do not recall," Francis replied casually, taking a sip from his cup. "I am sure the governess can be reinstated-"

"Francis Valois, you will be joining your queen and son," Mary said firmly. "If not, there will be repercussions."

Kenna gave her a grin, quickly looking down when Bash turned to her.

_Be assertive and make him work for it_.

"Now, let's enjoy this wonderful meal courtesy of a sheep's womb-"

Francis spat his mouthful out.

...

"What was that?" Francis asked when they got to their bedchamber and closed the doors behind them.

"What was what?" Mary asked, slipping out of her dress and corset. She turned to him, standing in the lingerie set from earlier.

_A woman's body can break one man with the slightest of skin shown._

"M-Mary..."

"God, I am exhausted," Mary said, yawning loudly. "Thank God, we are not exploring that cave at midnight."

Francis took a few steps towards her. "Mary, you look-"

"Great, I have an idea!" Mary cut him off, heading over to the fireplace and stoking the wood. "I will not bother writing in my diary tonight, I think we should just sleep. We have a long day ahead of us, tomorrow!"

When she was done, she got under the covers and made herself comfortable. She closed her eyes and smiled to herself when she could feel the bed dip soon after.

"Mary..."

She rolled onto her back, opening her eyes tiredly. Well, she thought she looked tired enough.

"You can't just get into bed looking like _that_," Francis said, pulling the covers off her body to reveal the lingerie. "Without the means to use it."

Mary shrugged. "I thought I would enjoy waking up looking better than I usually do in the mornings," she told him. "Kenna does this for herself."

"And not for Bash's sake?" Francis asked, taking his shirt off.

Mary smiled a little. "Who says women need to look beautiful for their husbands' sake? We can do it for _ourselves_."

"Where is all of this confidence coming from?" Francis asked, amused. "Is Kenna rubbing off on you too much? Do I need to check in with Bash? Should I be concerned about my brother?"

"Do you need to ask too many questions?" Mary asked, rolling her eyes.

He began to slip the straps from her shoulders and she quickly stopped him.

"Francis! Who said you could take it off? I intend to-"

"You and I both know what this is," Francis said, grinning. "Mary, Kenna always does the same plays with Bash. We may be men, but we are not stupid."

"Work. For. It," Mary leant up to whisper into his ear. "I will decide if you are worthy enough or not."

Francis laughed, pressing a kiss onto her lips. "Challenge _accepted_."

...

"...and here is the wall my great-great-grandfather marked when he nearly drowned on that fateful night..."

Kenna kicked Bash's foot, almost making him stumble. If not for his strong stature, he would have fallen.

He turned to give her a cheeky wink. "Are you getting tired, darling?"

"Sebastian, I swear-"

She was cut off by Bash pulling her into an alcove, her father continuing on with his tour of the cave.

Her chest raised and fell quickly, her heart beating loudly in her ears as her body pressed against Bash's frame.

"Who would have known that my wife was a minx?" He breathed out, kissing her. "By the way, I love the literature you've found yourself reading during our travels. It's very _enthralling_."

Kenna gasped. "H-How?"

"Do you honestly believe that the book hasn't fallen in the hands of men looking to put some excitement into their bedchamber antics?" Bash asked his wife. "We both know that we have had previous lovers before our marriage. I won't lie, I've used the book to please many high borns before you."

"Dear God," Kenna muttered, giggling softly. "Why, oh, why did you offer to attend this stupid tour? My father never shuts up about this cave that our family has been through for centuries!"

Bash shrugged. "I wanted to teach you a lesson, dear wife. You cannot always get what you want."

"Oh, Bash!" She whined, hitting his chest. "Must you annoy me so?"

"Just so you are aware, I had to approve your order of Italian lingerie. I'm flattered, my love, I really am," he replied. "I apologise that I've been preoccupied lately, but I swear, whatever you want, I will give you."

Kenna smirked. "A holiday estate in Switzerland."

"Done."

"_And_ emerald earrings to match the bracelet my father gifted me," she added.

He sighed. "Of course, it is done. But you already have emerald earrings-"

"They do not match. It has to be the exact shade of green as my bracelet. My father only sources the best!"

"Of course," he mumbled. "We better return to our tour before your father believes himself to be losing his mind."

She waved him off. "He is used to it. I think the tours are more for him than his guests."

"I feel as if we are disrespecting-"

"If I show you that he doesn't mind, you will add sapphire heels to that list. If I am wrong, I promise to not be on top for a week."

"On top...?" Bash asked before his eyes grew wide. "Deal."

Kenna smirked. _Never bet on something you know you will not win_.

...

As Mary headed towards the chamber pot, she found a handmaiden hurrying over to her.

"Ma'am, a moment of your time if I may?" She asked, curtseying.

"Yes, go ahead," Mary replied.

The handmaiden smiled widely. "If I may be the first to congratulate you and His Majesty-"

"Are you proclaiming that I am...?"

"Yes, Ma'am," the handmaiden confirmed. "Two weeks, Your Majesty."

"T-Two...?" Mary breathed out, surprised.

_And I didn't even get to use the book yet. Although just to confirm..._, she thought happily.

"Have the night off. Thank you very much," Mary said.

"My pleasure!"

Downstairs, Kenna basked in her victory as they entered the front doors.

"It was an unfair bet," her husband said, rolling his eyes. "Get me the books, I will see to it that you have the holiday estate, emerald earrings and sapphire heels bought."

"Don't worry about it," Kenna told him, kissing him. "I know my father and well, I knew exactly what to bet on because I knew I was going to win. You are right, it is unfair and I will accept my punishment, not that I mind because-"

"That damned book," Bash breathed out, laughing slightly. "It would have been a win-win situation for you, wouldn't it?"

Kenna nodded happily. "I am tired, Bash. Shall we?"

"We-"

"My Lord," a guard said, heading towards them. "Your son is having night terrors and requested that I call you."

Kenna frowned deeply. "Is he alright?"

"He is, he wants his father," the guard replied.

Bash sighed. "Very well." He turned to his wife. "Use the book for light reading, I will come to our bedchamber very soon." He gave her a wink and kissed her cheek.

Kenna replied with a nod, walking up the stairs. She wondered why Robin didn't call for her, but it was probably because he needed his father's comfort. Boys did look up to men.

In Robin's bedchamber, the boy snuggled into his father's side.

"It was terrible, Papa!"

"I'm sure it was," Bash replied. "Why did you not want your mother here?"

Robin shrugged. "She's a girl. She wouldn't understand, she never does."

"I'm sure that is not true."

"Mama only spends time with Ana. She doesn't spend time with me," Robin told him sadly.

Bash closed his eyes. It seemed that the couples' retreat would have to wait or Mary and Francis would have to go without them.

"What if Ana stayed with the governess and you, Mama and I go horseriding?" Bash asked his son.

"Yes, please!"

"Robin, you do know that Mama loves you very much. She's finding things difficult after childbirth," Bash said. "Sometimes, it is difficult and women become distant from their other children. You will see, everything will go back to normal."

...

"Francis-"

"Bash and Kenna won't be able to make it," Francis cut his wife off. "If that is what you were going to say?"

Mary gasped. "No, but is everything alright? They were excited about the trip."

"Robin had night terrors. They are hoping to spend more time with him," Francis explained. "But they told us to not cancel on our trip."

"I guess it's lovely to have time together without worrying about what the four of us should do together," Mary replied. "I had ideas of you men teaching us how to play cards."

Francis laughed. "I know you know how to play cards, Mary. You always kept records on the money I lost or won."

"It is not that hard to work out," Mary said, grinning. "Anyway, I have some news."

"Uh oh," Francis teased. "Go ahead."

"I think the girls are not going to be happy with us for a while," she told him cryptically.

It took a few minutes, but the second it dawned on Francis, Mary was being lifted into the air.

"H-How far-"

"Two weeks," she breathed out, tears springing to her eyes. "I knew I was craving more things than usual. And I felt bloated already! Maybe, it's my imagination or I just _know_ when my body changes."

Francis laughed. "Mary, we will have four children. Dear, God, we will have four children!"

"I know!"

"I think we should even it out. Two girls and two boys."

"We can only pray," she said. "I am so happy!"

"So am I! I think our prayers are being answered," he replied. "We must attend the chapel with the children."

Mary nodded. "I'd like to keep it within this castle."

His face fell. "So, no telling my mother just yet?"

"Not yet," Mary said. "I do not want her 'told you so's' in my ears."

"Alright, that is fair. Now, we have something to truly celebrate when we leave for Linlithgow Palace," Francis said. "I will start making the arrangements. Who needs sleep?"

Mary laughed. "Who needs sleep?"


	19. An Argument Battle With The Queen

**Let me just say, I am terrible at heated scenes, you'll know what I mean. Also, I read up a little bit on Bash's wiki page out of curiosity, (because as you know, I more or less gave up watching Reign after Kennash ended and Francis died) and I got an idea from that, after learning he became some sort of druid... Anyway, I hope you'll like the direction I take for Kenna, Bash and their family as a little side plot. There are still some loving moments between Frary and their children to come.**

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**Guest (1) [chapter 18]: Here's the next chapter and I hope you enjoy what I have in store!**

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****Guest (2) [chapter 18]: Well, I'm not sure if this is long ;) It's definitely a build-up for what's in store.****

* * *

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Anne, we can do this all day, but the fact still stands," Mary told her eldest daughter. "You _will_ have another sibling."

Anne's eyes watered. "But that's more siblings to share you with! I've only just accepted Rose!"

"What?"

"I mean, I love my sister!" Anne cried, rubbing her tears away.

Mary bit back a laugh. Her daughter was one manipulative child and she definitely knew the child's thought processes. She brought her into her arms and rubbed her back.

"I know, my sweet," Mary said softly. "But Papa and I were always planning on giving you many siblings."

"I wish I was like you, Mama!" Anne told her. "And Robin, you both only have _one_ sibling!"

Mary shrugged. "But Papa has many siblings and he loves them all very dearly..."

_At least most of them_, Mary thought to herself.

Charles had been married off recently, Francis's sisters were also married off and sent to other countries beyond reach. These days, Francis only had Bash and Henri to count on.

"I thought you told Rose that you and Papa would wait," Anne told her. "You lied, Mama. You lied."

Mary kissed Anne's head softly. "My love, Papa and I didn't plan for this to happen." _Yes, they did._ "I'm terribly sorry."

Anne sniffled. "I forgive you. As long as he is not disgusting like James! He always spits up on me."

"He's a baby," Mary argued, laughing. "He will be chasing after you very soon. You have to be a good role model for him, can I count on you?"

"Yes," Anne said, nodding. "You can, Mama."

"Good. Go and find Robin and Rose. I am sure they'd like to play knights and princesses," Mary replied, standing back up.

Just as Anne ran off, Kenna entered the room and gave Mary a coy smile.

"You're glowing, Mary," Kenna told her knowingly. "Does it have something to do with your husband stealing mine away for a trip to the tavern?"

Mary nodded. "I'm-"

"I knew it!"

"H-How?"

Kenna waved her off, laying down on the chaise casually. "I have eyes and you _did_ look slightly bloated than usual."

"Do you really observe my figure?" Mary asked her. "For how long?"

"A _long_ time," Kenna replied, beaming. "I have to notice the changes in my friends otherwise I'd be a terrible friend, wouldn't I? Not that our husbands will bother to notice."

Mary giggled. "How was the tour of the cave?"

"Boring," Kenna said. "As expected. Until I made a bet and won either way."

"Kenna!" Mary laughed. "Let me guess, the book?"

"What else?"

Mary shook her head in disbelief. "It almost got me in trouble. Well, not _trouble_..."

"Mary, Queen of Scots. Look at you, losing your innocence!" Kenna replied. "Apparently, my efforts for a private reading life were thwarted by Bash's knowledge all along. I am terribly sorry that we-"

"Please, come," Mary cut her off. "I am still new to this and I do not want to embarrass myself."

Kenna gave her a look. "You could be buried naked in mud and Francis still wouldn't judge you. You will be fine-"

"This was meant for us to get _away_ from the struggles of parenthood. I will soon have _four_ children, Kenna! Dear God, even you said that you needed space from Robert and Anastasia."

"Well, I've been meaning to talk to someone about the book... Lola and I explored it years ago and now that I am married..." Kenna trailed off.

Mary grinned. "Am I swaying your mind?"

Kenna rolled her eyes. "If you manage to convince an almost six-year-old to give up his parents for a short while."

"I am a queen, I can convince _anyone_."

"I've noticed your success rate," Kenna teased. "_Fine_."

"Yes!"

...

"Why did you insist on separate carriages?" Francis asked his wife as they began their journey to her ancestral home.

Mary smiled a little. "I remember you telling me once that Bash snored like a horse and I can tell you, only his wife can bear it."

"Or..." Francis started. "You were thinking about doing something _not_ very queenlike."

Mary's cheeks reddened as she nervously pulled at the collar of her dress. Underneath was one of Kenna's lingerie. She hadn't known that the woman had bought thirteen more sets under her poor husband's name.

"If that is what you truly think," Mary said, turning to grin at him. "You don't know me at _all_."

Francis tutted, looking out of the window to view the night sky. "Is it really because of Bash's snoring?"

"Kenna seldom complains," Mary said lightly. "We're women, we _talk_."

"And what about me? What do you say to her about me?"

Mary smirked. "I say that you do something to me that I really like... When I'm asleep, you braid my hair and I laugh because it's _you_."

Francis turned to her in surprise. "How did you find out?"

"Rose told me that she came to sleep in our bed one night, but saw you braiding my hair. I naturally assumed it was one of the girls, but no, it wasn't. It was you," Mary replied. "It's sweet."

"I aim to surprise," Francis said, smiling at her. "I have many sisters, I was bound to know how to braid hair. More so that they tried to braid mine when I was little."

Mary laughed, taking his hand in hers. "Is that so?"

"Yes," he replied, nodding. "I'd run around, my mother barely catching me, my hair knotted in many places because Elisabeth and Claude wanted to practice."

"Do you miss your mother?"

"Mary, I... I know what she's done was not for the better of us or our family, but she is still-"

"Your mother," Mary finished for him. "I understand. Small steps, Francis."

Francis smiled to himself. "How far is the castle from here?"

"Six hours," Mary replied. "Why?"

Francis's hand found the back of her neck and her breath hitched, his hand going lower to the laces that held her dress tight.

"Last night was amazing, Mary," he said quietly, undoing the laces with one hand.

Mary's eyes met his. "Was it?"

"You know it was," he replied. "Perhaps Kenna may have been right because I saw what you have underneath this dress."

"And what do I have underneath this dress exactly?" She asked, leaning forward so he could finish undoing her laces.

"We both know," his reply came, a kiss landing on her shoulder after he'd slipped her sleeves off. "I just want to know if you have more."

Mary laughed. "I can't keep stealing Kenna's lingerie sets."

"Knowing Bash, he won't take the time to appreciate them anyway," Francis replied, his kisses trailing up her neck. "He told me he rips them off - you ought to steal more before all his money goes to waste."

Mary took a sharp intake of breath when his lips met her pressure point, her hand immediately going to steady his head against her skin. She could feel her stomach tied in knots and she gripped onto his hair.

"That's a shame, considering he spends an awful lot on those for her," came her breathy reply.

She squealed when he unexpectedly fell on her side, their carriage going over a rough patch on the road. She cursed, taking her dress off herself, impatiently.

"Francis, you need to take your-"

He lifted his shirt off, reattaching his lips onto her neck once again as she pushed the dress off her hips. When the dress was on the ground of their carriage, Mary got up and straddled his hips, pressing her lips against his in a heated kiss.

"Not only your shirt," she said, pulling away.

She looked into his eyes as he blindly undid his trousers and pushed them off, letting them pool around his booted feet.

"Not only your shirt and breeches," she whispered into his ear.

Francis let out a chuckle, vibrating her skin as he slipped his undershorts off.

"That's much better," Mary said, kissing him again.

"And is that fair?"

Mary frowned. "What?"

"That you still have that on your body?" Francis asked her, gripping her waist.

Mary giggled, pressing a kiss to the side of his lips. "I thought you didn't want to be like your brother and not appreciate the finer things..."

"Damn it, Mary," Francis said, his eyes darkening. "If I beg, will-"

"Shh," Mary cut him off, pressing a finger to his lips. "Patience is a-"

"Virtue that I'd like to ignore," he told her.

Mary ground against him, evidently feeling his excitement. She laughed, shaking her head.

"After nearly four children, I still have this effect on you?" She asked, touched.

"Oh, my love, I will never stop reacting to the effect you have on me," he replied, reaching down between them to unlatch her lingerie but she quickly stopped him. "Why are you delaying the inevitable?"

"Because it's inevitable?" Mary retorted teasingly.

Francis groaned. "Is it this stupid book?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Mary!"

"Francis!" She replied mockingly. _Damn, Kenna really does bring out my confident side if I'm starting to talk like her_, she thought amusingly.

Francis narrowed his eyes. "If you don't give me what I want in five minutes..."

"You'll what?"

"I'll have to take it for _myself_," he said, biting the skin over her collarbone, making her gasp.

His hands found the ribbon ties of the green lace bodice, unweaving each strand one by one, slowly and surely, his eyes never leaving hers.

She waited patiently, thinking that she might as well let him gain somewhat of an upper hand.

"Are you done?" She asked, feeling the bodice loosen.

"Nearly," Francis replied, undoing the last tie. "Now, I am."

"Good."

Mary reached down and unlatched the bottom, feeling a release at the bottom of her stomach.

"I never realised how tight-fitting this was until I unlatched it," she breathed out. "To be honest, I'd like it off n-"

Before she knew it, the lingerie was off over her head and she let out a strained moan when she felt him enter her.

She pressed her head against his and waited a while for her body to adjust. She could already feel the pressure, but she wasn't ready to let go this quick, she wanted to enjoy it.

Slow and steady... Slow and steady...

"Are you going to-"

"Shh," she shushed him, pressing a hand against his mouth. "We can't be loud."

"I already know that," his amused, muffled reply came.

Mary laughed. "Have you ever heard foxes making love?"

"What?"

"It's loud and strange. There was a fox den near Castle Barton-"

"You're ruining the moment-"

"We need to be quiet, is my point," she finished, not giving him any warning when she started to ride him.

She heard him let out a strangled groan and she pressed her lips against his, hoping that their sounds would be drowned in each other.

Francis quickened the pace, deciding that slow was _too slow_. He needed to reach his climax sooner, after all the foreplay and stalling she did, he deserved it.

"F-Francis," she said against his lips. "Slower-"

"Mary-"

"_Harder_."

He complied, pressing his lips to her neck as one of her hands found the wall, the other gripped onto his shoulder tightly, her sharp nails digging into his skin.

He winced at the pain, but it quickly left his mind when he reached his climax. He shivered, wanting to help his wife, but she stopped him and continued to rock, this time slower and steadier.

She wanted to be in control. She was a weapon, but also her own asset.

She could retrieve her pleasure herself, no one needed to help her.

She was a queen.

_Chapter Seventeen - If you want something done, do it yourself. Not every time a man has to take credit_.

Sensing that she was about to reach her climax, he kissed her, his tongue slipping into her mouth as their tongues fought for dominance.

He was glad that they could do this. Most times, their carriage trips were with their children. Now, it was just him and Mary and a _long_ journey ahead of them. They will need to pass the time a good few times.

"Francis!" She cried out, her mouth leaving his.

She shivered, falling against him, breathing heavily as her eyes closed tiredly.

"What happened to 'being quiet'?" He asked, chuckling breathlessly. "Because that was loud."

Mary laughed. "I-"

She was cut off by the carriage jolting once again, the driver apologising for going over yet another uneven part of the road.

"Perhaps he heard," Francis said to his wife, snorting.

"Hmm, otherwise we wouldn't have gone over many potholes," she replied.

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Were you too into your _harder and faster_ to not realise that we went over six potholes?" She asked him teasingly. "I really do have an effect on you. You couldn't even notice your surroundings."

Francis started to laugh, reaching down to retrieve her lingerie. "We should get dressed."

"We should..." She trailed off. "But we still have a long journey ahead of us."

"Do we now?" He asked coyly. "Oh, that is right. Six hours."

"Yes," Mary replied, grinning. "Maybe I'd let you take over."

His eyes sparkled. "Really?"

"No," she said. "Because there is _one_ page from that book I'd like to try..."

"Is that so?"

"Just sit back and enjoy the ride," she said into his ear huskily before kneeling in front of him.

...

Halfway through the journey, they set up camp.

"I'm sorry," Mary said, wiping her mouth. "I think it was all the hot air inside the carriage and with the baby..."

"Glad to know that it wasn't our earlier antics that made you destroy the pretty, little flowers below. What a shame, they're now covered in beef, carrots and something I won't even say out loud," Francis teased her.

She laughed, accepting some wine to get rid of the sour taste in her mouth. She felt embarrassed, the driver of their carriage eyeing them warily every now and then as he conversed with the other drivers by the campfire.

"Is he telling them of our lustful tryst?" She asked her husband quietly.

Francis shrugged. "We're married, they obviously know how we procreate our heirs."

Mary giggled, her eyes wandering around. "Where are Kenna and Bash?"

"I think they are still in their carriage," Francis explained. "I doubt either of them got any sleep due to Robin's night terrors."

The door to the other couple's carriage opened and Bash stepped out, closing it behind him. He walked over to them, quite flusteredly they realised.

"We thought you were asleep," Mary told him, giving him a smile. "How's the journey so far?"

"Terribly long," Bash replied.

Francis noticed something about him and grinned. "Are those scratches on your neck?" He asked, pointing very notably to the red, bleeding lines under Bash's ear. "One, two and three. Someone's wife was getting _lusty_."

"What?" Bash asked, quickly slapping a hand over his cuts. "No. T-They're not what you think they are."

"I think by 'terribly long', you mean 'just long enough'," the blonde also said teasingly. "Is your wife tired from your activ-"

"I dare you to finish-"

"Gentlemen," Mary said, laughing. "Yes, we've all utilised the longevity of this journey for certain activities. Let's not tease each other over it."

"It's that stupid book," Bash confessed to them soon after. "Kenna wants to try all sorts of positions and well, my body is not as it used to be."

Francis rolled his eyes. "We're not even thirty-"

"I'm nearing it! I feel old and worn out and she... she's as spirited and energetic as a hare!"

Mary bit back a smile. "Are you comparing your wife to a hare?"

"I wouldn't if I were you," Francis added.

"No," Bash said fearfully, crossing his arms. "Anyway, forget the book. It's also those damned seductive vices she keeps ordering on my name. The looks our servants and guards give me, those looks follow me here."

"We're young, Bash!" Francis told him. "We might as well enjoy what our dear wives graciously give us while we still can."

Mary nodded. "So stop complaining."

"Complaining? No, I'm doing the opposite," Bash said, smirking. "I won't tell you about that. Let's just say, we are glad that we have no children in the carriage."

"We understand what you mean," Mary replied, blushing. "It is not long until we get there, so we better get some rest. I knew it would be hard travelling at night, but that was the only time the children wouldn't see us leaving."

"I guess you both need all the time before your household counts to _six_."

Francis wrapped his arms around his wife's waist from behind, placing his hands on her bump. "I still can't quite believe it."

"Neither can I," Mary whispered, shivering slightly.

His hands moved to rub warmth into her shoulders and she blushed under Bash's warm gaze.

"You both raise amazing children," he told them. "I wish our parents could have done the same for us."

"It is hard," Mary said softly. "I keep worrying whether I will mess something up. When we were first married, yes, we needed heirs but... I was scared to _be_ a mother, to go through childbirth, to get out of it alive..." She sent an apologetic look towards the carriage where Kenna was. "Not most queens can be hands-on, but I am glad that I am as I am a queen in my own right and I care deeply for my children."

Bash nodded. "There's something I need to tell you about Robin-"

"Your Majesties, My Lord - it is time to continue with our journey," one of the drivers said. "It is getting too dangerous."

Francis sent his brother a look. "We will continue this when we arrive."

Bash nodded, bowing slightly before heading towards his carriage.

"He seemed _off_," Francis told his wife as they got into their own. "I wonder what is wrong with Robin."

"I hope it isn't anything too worrying," Mary replied. "They've been through a lot already."

"Well, we'll find out when we get-"

"Home," Mary finished for him. She gave him a smile. "I highly doubt we'd stay there long as Castle Barton is my home, but Linlithgow Palace is still special to me."

"Then, it is special to _me_."


	20. A Spirited Queen

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**

**Guest (1) [chapter 19]: I aim to make longer chapters, so I'm glad you're enjoying that. Robin's situation will be revealed in due time. As much as I love Frary's children, even parents need some time away for themselves.**

**elder441 [chapter 19]: He is Bash's, but his situation links to his nightmares which will be revealed soon.**

* * *

Mary smiled to herself, her mind full of memories from her early childhood. The memories were in the voice of her mother, explaining to her of her life's beginnings Most were distant, some were vivid.

"I was born in this very room and it was the first and last time I met my father," she told Francis, sitting down on the bed. "I never knew him, but my mother told me that he loved me. Even if I wasn't a son."

"Was she telling the truth?"

"I don't know," Mary replied. "But it did give me comfort, especially after the whole situation with my people wanting my half-brother on my throne."

Francis walked up to the window and scanned the grounds below. "This palace is small."

"Well, it isn't England or France," Mary replied, shrugging. "I don't even feel safe here."

"Why not?" He asked, turning to face her. "I thought we had guards surrounding the whole place."

"We do, but it long stopped being home."

Francis nodded. "I understand. I want you to show me everything that Scotland has to offer. It is my home now too."

She stood up and joined him by the window, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I am glad that you see it that way."

She pressed a hand to her mouth and gagged, looking up to see her husband's concerned gaze. She squeezed his shoulder in the assurance that she was fine.

"It's worse with this one. I highly doubt I felt anything with Rose," she told him. "I can't wait until it goes away."

"I wish I could go through it for you," Francis replied lovingly. "You carry my children and the best I can do is rub your feet as you create life."

"_We_ create life," she whispered, kissing him softly. "You do enough by being there for me."

He smiled, leaning his forehead against hers. "Do you remember when you told me that five children were not coming out of you?"

She giggled. "We're on our way there," she responded. "Four out of five isn't so bad."

"We're going to run out of names..."

"Well, we can name all of them _Mary_ or _Francis_ and take a chance," she said teasingly. "It was your plan at the start."

"If it's a girl, my mother asked that-"

"Francis..."

"I know," he said. "I had to tell her, I'm sorry. She's in Scotland."

Mary backed away from him, placing a hand on her head. "When?"

"Since Anne's birthday," he replied.

"That's why you've been sweet-talking me regarding her. Francis, _why?_"

"My mother is important to me. You are also important to me and if the two most important women in my life are against each other-"

"You are in the middle of it," she realised. "You won't take my side-"

"Nor hers."

She looked away from him. "I will try. If not for you, for the greater good of France and our children."

He breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

"You're not off the hook," she quickly said, staring at him in the eyes. "You have to make it up to me."

Francis froze. "I-I do?"

"For betraying my trust," Mary said. "That is punishable."

"Mary, I never meant to bring my mother here without-"

"I don't care," she cut him off, pressing a finger to his lips. "If you do not make it up to me by tomorrow, I do not know where that leaves our marriage. Trust and loyalty, Francis..."

Francis frowned, but when he saw the smile threatening to break her stern composure, he realised what was going on. Deciding to test the waters, he stepped closer to her, making her back away.

"And if I fail to make it up to you?" Francis asked daringly.

Mary batted her eyelashes. "Then you'll receive the worst punishment I have to offer."

"I am starting to believe that I'll enjoy this punishment."

"Uh-uh," she said, shaking her head. "It's not meant for _your_ enjoyment..."

She walked away, leaving their bedchamber with a small grin on her face and her cheeks red and flustered. She didn't know how long she could keep that up for and she was glad to have an escape, even pulling Kenna (from the handmaiden she was ordering) to her side.

"Why are you smiling so much?" Kenna asked her friend, sending a quick apologetic smile towards the handmaiden that was now behind them as they continued walking.

Mary rolled her eyes. "You know how much Catherine gets to me?"

"I do, in many ways," Kenna replied in confusion.

"Well, I am using that over Francis."

Kenna smirked. "Is my little Mary growing up?"

"Kenna!" Mary cried out. "I did lose my virginity before you, remember?"

"Well, we all know how much of a prude you were to the weakness of the flesh before we were wedded women," Kenna replied coyly. "Who says virginity was in the equation?"

"I wonder how Bash hasn't been alarmed by your experience."

"He cares about my experience," Kenna replied, beaming. "What my husband and I talk about regarding our sex lives is beyond you."

Mary blushed. "Let me guess-"

"The book." Kenna chuckled. "We intend to utilise it. I might even form a book club."

"Kenna!"

"You're right. I intend to keep that book until my dying breath," Kenna said.

Mary turned to her, eyebrow raised. "You intend to use it in your older years?"

"Didn't my husband liken me to a _spirited hare_? Thank you for letting me know."

Mary laughed loudly. "You are very welcome." Mary then became serious. "Is something wrong with Robin?"

Kenna frowned. "Why would there be?"

"Well, Bash was about to tell us something regarding him and it seemed serious," Mary explained. "If there is anything-"

"There's nothing wrong with Robin otherwise I'd know _first_," Kenna replied firmly. "You know what, I will speak to my husband and find out for myself."

Kenna walked off, leaving Mary stunned and confused. She wondered what was going on and why Kenna seemed to be defensive about it.

Mary knew that Kenna loved her son, she and Kenna were strong mothers and would lay their lives for their children. However, it seemed that sometimes the fathers kept things from them.

Mary walked back to her bedchamber.

...

Bash looked up when he heard the door open, giving Kenna a warm smile. It quickly disappeared when he saw the hurt and anger in her eyes.

"What is going on with Robin?" She demanded.

Bash frowned. "I'm sorry?"

"You were going to tell Francis and Mary something about _my_ son, _our_ son and you wouldn't let me know?" She asked him. "Is it because of his night terrors and his dislike for me being there for him?"

Bash sighed, waving her off. "He's a child. He's just like any other son who is missing the care and attention from his mother that he used to get prior to a sibling being born. It's nothing-"

"It's something, Bash," she cut him off softly. "I know I may be selfish at times, but my children mean everything to me. _You_ mean everything to me and without one of you, there is nothing of me."

Bash searched her eyes and got up from his seat, going over to pull her into his arms. He was nervous and he promised to keep this to himself, but he needed some counsel, some advice.

"I know it took me a while to bond with Robin and Ana, but I do love them," Kenna mumbled against his chest.

Bash nodded, kissing her head. "I know."

"So, what is it?" Kenna asked, looking up to stare into his eyes. "Whatever it is, we can help him _together_."

"His... His night terrors," Bash began. "They're of the past."

Kenna's eyebrows furrowed. "I don't understand?"

"When I almost died, when Renaude almost stabbed me in the back and you saved my life... His night terrors are filled with pain, blood and _me_," he whispered sadly. "I don't understand why he's getting them, why they're of my past. He's frightened he will lose me and I kept it from you because I wanted to protect you. We are done with the darkness, we need light, Kenna."

Kenna swallowed deeply. "Is he... Is he like Nostradamus?" She asked gently. "Are those visions?"

"I don't know," Bash said, heading over to the table to pour them some wine. "I believed visions were of the future, not the past."

She accepted a cup. "Why is he getting them?"

Bash closed his eyes. "Why do you think?"

Kenna nodded. "He's pagan, isn't he?" She whispered fearfully. "You have pagan blood and now, our children have pagan blood... Bash, if anyone finds out, you all could be killed."

"I know. Kenna, I can't keep this from Francis-"

"You were willing to keep it from _me_."

"That's different," he replied.

"In what way?" Kenna snapped.

"He's my brother."

"And I am your _wife_. This child's _mother_!" She cried out, placing her cup onto the table. "I did not care when you told me that you had pagan blood, I still loved you and I love our children despite that. You need to let me in, we promised each other _no secrets_."

Bash sighed heavily. "Before I married you, I did what I wanted. I killed people, I camped in the woods for weeks, I did bad things. Never did I ever think about having a wife or let alone children."

"Now you have them."

"Now I have them," he affirmed. "And instead of protecting myself, I have to think about you, Robert and Anastasia. It still scares me that even though I have left that life in my past, some may still come to have me pay my debts. They could use you against me so sometimes, I do lie to you and I do keep things from you."

Kenna looked away. "The first time I did that, you weren't happy. Remember? When I entered the _lion's den_? When you found out my reasonings and that I was afraid of Henry, you forgave me. You forgave me multiple times, but when-"

"Kenna's that's in the past," he said gently. "My love."

Kenna's heart swelled. He wasn't upset, he'd long since let it go - everything about Antoine and Renaude and whoever was there to hurt their marriage and keep them apart.

"Bash, I need you to know that I never knew that I was expecting for that long before I tried to make things right with you. I am sorry for being selfish, but look where we are now," she continued. "Trust me, Bash. Let me be the one you share your secrets with, let me be there for you."

He offered her his hand and she nervously took it. He then walked back towards the bed and sat down, pulling her to stand in front of him.

"Kenna..." He whispered, getting onto one knee and looking up. "I want us to grow and be stronger."

Kenna's eyes watered. "I know."

"I know our first wedding wasn't what either of us wanted, but I've come to love you and respect you as my equal, my wife, my friend, the mother of my children..."

"Bash," she said softly.

"Marry me," he told her.

Kenna laughed. "We're already married."

"I saw how you envied Lola and Greer's wedding. I even noticed how my mother jibed at you for crying during ours. Kenna, you deserve to feel happy," Bash replied.

"I do feel happy, I am happy," she said, rubbing his cheek. "Bash, I don't mind."

Bash sighed. "But I do. We've two witnesses in Francis and Mary, a priest is coming from the Vatican-"

"Bash, when did you plan this?"

"Did you really believe your father's eagerness to get into the land mining business? You should remind yourself he already has _three_," Bash teased her.

Kenna scoffed lightly. "You are something else, do you know that?"

"So, what do you say wife? Shall we do this the way it was intended to be?" He asked her, kissing her left hand.

Kenna nodded eagerly. "Perhaps my tears will be ones of happiness this time," she said, getting onto her knees to kiss him, her hands firmly on his cheeks. "Thank you."

"No, it should be me thanking _you_. Kenna, I don't say this enough - I love you."

She leant closer, her lips hovering his. "Say it again," she demanded.

"I love you," he said breathlessly.

"Again," she begged.

"I love you."

She pressed her lips against his, ripping his shirt apart as his arms wound around her waist. Her mind became clouded with him; her husband, her friend, her lover, the father of her children - the _only_ man she'll ever want fathering her children.

She felt her dress loosen and impatiently, she took both it and her corset off before helping him unbutton his trousers.

"Are we consummating this before we're wed?" He asked, laughing as he let her take over from undressing him.

Kenna pressed him against the floor. "We're already wed, you dolt. If those two children didn't convince you-"

She let out a breathy gasp, looking down at him.

"Well, that's one way to shut me up," she said, kissing him.

...

"We're needed downstairs," Francis told his wife when he entered their bedchamber.

She turned to him. "Why?"

"It's a surprise," Francis replied.

"For who?"

"Kenna," he said. "Bash and I have been planning something with Duke Beaton."

Mary smiled a little. "What?"

"A wedding."

"A wedding?" Mary repeated. "But they're already married."

Francis gave her a look. "And we all know how their wedding went down. I'm sure Kenna loves being reminded that she cried bitter tears and was held at sword point at her wedding."

"She deserves to remember her wedding with fond memories," Mary replied. "And would you look at that?"

"What?" Francis smirked.

"Your brother is such a romantic. Replacing horrid memories with sweeter ones," Mary said. "Today is their wedding anniversary - I need to get Kenna prepared."

Francis beamed. "One of the east wing bedchambers, there is a dress. Fetch her and get her in that dress and Bash and I will see you both downstairs."

Mary left a wide smile on her face. Long ago, she would have been angry, demanding that Henry never force one of her subjects and ladies to such a fate. However, Bash proved to be loyal and loving towards his forced wife and she felt nothing but happiness for the couple.

Her heart swelled with joy.


	21. A Wedding Invite For The Queen

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**elder 441 [chapter 20]: He is! I rewatched an episode recently and Francis said that Bash deciding to be a bad king in order to be a good husband made me think about Bash being a faithful and loyal, loving husband. He would do anything to make Kenna happy. I have so many ideas, sometimes the chapters get long and I have to cut it. I'm relieved that they're longer on their own though!**

**Guest (1) [chapter 20]: Thank you so much! I hope you enjoy this next chapter!**

* * *

Kenna bit her lip, eyeing herself in the mirror. Her dress was tight-fitting, long and flowers had been placed intricately around her waist, acting like a border between the lace bodice and satin skirt.

"Well, for starters, this dress is way different to what I wore at my first wedding," she told Mary, turning around to look at her. "How did you feel when you married Francis?"

Mary smiled fondly. "I felt happy. Overjoyed, even," she replied. "Although our marriage was an alliance between Scotland and France, it felt like it was for _us_."

Kenna nodded. "Did your wedding night feel like it was for you when-"

"Kenna..."

"I know," Kenna mumbled. "You and Bash are securely in the past, but sometimes I do think about you."

Mary stood up from her seat, placing her hands upon Kenna's shoulders. "And then you remind yourself that the only woman he tells 'I love you' to is _you_."

Kenna's eyes watered. "I've never felt like this before, so in love. I thought-I believed I loved Henry, but that was just lust and infatuation. I guess he's done me a favour by forcing me to marry Bash because I can't remember the other names of the people I've been with. Bash helps me to forget, he helps me move on, his touch _heals_ me."

Mary kissed her cheek softly, squeezing Kenna's shoulders before backing away and fixing the back of her dress. Nothing was going to be out of place, everything had to be perfect for her perfect friend.

Kenna scoffed. "I remember my wedding night. I was in the bed and Bash was on the floor by the fireplace - both of us scorned and distrusting of the other. Small mercies that we weren't a spectacle to be watched and pin-picked on, what a sight that would have been."

"It is quite daunting for your first night as man and wife to be watched," Mary replied. "But your first time, was it as you expected?"

Kenna blushed furiously. "Well, I wasn't expecting it that's for sure. He came out of nowhere, claiming that he didn't want to take things slow anymore. It felt like I was reborn, that the man I gave myself to truly loved and cared for me. He gave and he never took unless I wanted him to. Mary... As girls, did we ever think we'd end up where we are today?"

Mary shook her head. "I stopped believing in fairy tales, thinking that I'd be married off to someone I would have to force myself to love. I always knew that there was a chance for Francis and me, I wanted it to become real and it did. I am happy it did."

Kenna laughed softly, fixing a flower crown onto the top of her head. "You're wearing our ancestral fabric," she noted, turning around fully. "You look beautiful, Your Majesty."

"Enough," Mary said softly, smiling widely. "You look stunning, Lady Kenna."

"I'm not a lady anymore, am I?" Kenna replied. "A _duchess_. God, I hold the same standing as my father."

"What a journey it was to get there," Mary teased her. "I'm so happy for you, Kenna. You're one of my oldest friends and I feel for Catherine. She once told me that she did not need friends as she had a crown on her head. I am relieved to still have you in my life."

Kenna nodded politely. "Thank you. Do make things right with Catherine. I wish I had with Diane despite everything we did to each other involving Henry. Now, she never answers our letters and I feel guilty that Bash doesn't have his mother in our children's lives. Mothers are everything - fathers come and go, but mothers stay because at the end of the day, they gave us life and they are the reason we can also make life."

"So, I should sincerely make things right with Catherine?"

"I am saying that do not let your guard down but respect her. She's a mother and she's hurting as well," Kenna explained. "A more beautiful queen came into her home and took her son away from her through marriage and bearing his children. Just see things from her view."

Mary stood, heading over to Kenna to hug her tightly. "You're so selfless at times, I wonder what happened to you."

"I got married to the bravest and most selfless man in the whole of France _and_ Scotland," Kenna replied happily. "We taught each other a few things along the way."

"Well, let's get you downstairs in time for him to teach you more things," Mary told her. "Perhaps, time management."

"Mary!"

Mary laughed, shrugging coyly. "You never were one to manage your time efficiently. But when it came to parties..."

"Alright, you're right. Now, let's go before I am actually late for my own wedding."

...

The wedding went swimmingly well, no tears of grief but happiness. From _both_ parties, much to Mary's amusement.

It was a far cry from the wedding she witnessed all of those years ago, seven or was it eight years ago? She couldn't quite remember, despite the event being vivid in her head. Her friends and she had helped Kenna forget most of it, by getting her drunk or helping them with other activities.

Mary watched on, her closest allies and friends staring lovingly at each other as if they were the only ones that existed in the world. She turned to Francis who held the same smile on his face as she did.

Discreetly, not that she needed to be, she took his hand and squeezed it. She soon felt his lips connect with the back of her hand and she gave him a warm smile.

"What are you thinking about?" He asked her under his breath. It wasn't like the other couple paid them any mind.

"My heart leapt in fear for both of them the first time," Mary replied just as quiet as her husband. "This is marriage, it cannot be undone and now, they're getting remarried in front of God and King."

Francis smiled wryly. "A sane king at least."

"Indeed," Mary replied, chuckling softly. "I'm just happy for them. Happy that they found ways to make it work despite how they were brought together."

After the ceremony, they were treated to a wedding dinner. It would have been a dance, but it was an intimate affair.

"I have a gift for you," Mary heard Bash tell his wife. She looked up from her meal to see her friend presented with a large velvet jewellery box.

Kenna gave her husband a look of slight disapproval. "You didn't have to get me anything, this whole affair was enough."

"Then it's a wedding gift from me," Francis cut in, raising his glass. "Considering it was me who was able to get it brought here in time."

"Oh, really?" Kenna giggled, cupping her husband's cheek fondly. "Well, thank you both."

She retrieved her hand and collected the box, opening it to reveal an emerald jewellery set. Earrings, rings, a necklace and a bracelet. Kenna's eyes sparkled at the sight and she smiled softly, running her hand over the large gemstone on the necklace.

"It's beautiful..." She breathed out, holding it up to show Mary. "I don't know what I've done to deserve this - I haven't even got you anything, Bash."

"It's fine," Bash replied, kissing the side of her head as she continued to stare intently at the gift. "You are enough."

As they continued to eat, Mary stole glances with Francis. She felt slightly unwell and used the wine to keep the bitterness from rising up her throat so she didn't ruin the dinner.

She knew that Bash and Kenna would not have minded, preferring to consummate their marriage again anyway, but she should stay as one of the two guests at their wedding.

"So, what were you going to tell us about Robin?" Francis asked, cutting into her thoughts.

_Yes_, Mary thought. _I have been meaning to ask following earlier's strained conversation_.

Kenna seemed relaxed though, turning to her husband for an explanation. She gave him a look when he seemed to inwardly battle with himself regarding letting the other couple in on their family situation.

"Tell them, Bash," Kenna finally said, giving him an encouraging smile.

"Robin has... he has visions," Bash quickly said, taking a gulp from his wine. "Of events that occurred long since before his birth and even existence."

Now, Mary really wanted to throw up, but she pushed it down. She gave the couple an affirming nod, letting them know that she understood what was just said to her.

"So, he's like Nostradamus?" Francis asked them. "I-Is that a problem?"

Bash nodded, then stopped. "If you both remember, there are not only Catholic or Protestant worshippers..."

"Pagan worship," Mary said firmly. "Why would he...?" Her eyes widened. "Oh, dear God."

"We can handle this," Kenna quickly told them. "He won't ever know about that side of his lineage. Especially now that Diane keeps avoiding our contact. Robin and Ana are Catholic and that is the end of it."

"And what if Robin tells someone about his _visions_?" Francis said, rubbing his head. "He's barely six, he will not understand that watching what one says is important."

Bash shrugged. "Well, it's a good thing we're not at Court. I had to let you know, just in case..."

"In case of what?" Mary asked softly. "You can't believe someone will harm a child for having _night terrors_?"

"We intend to keep them as those," Bash assured them. "We'll be fine."

He stroked Kenna's cheek and she leant into his touch, placing a hand over his. As long as he had his wife and children, he would be happy and safe. He will protect them, provide for them and love them until his dying breath.

"I have my wife, we'll get through this and we'll be fine," Bash said.

...

The minute the _newlyweds_ stood from the table to spend time alone, Mary hurried towards the chamberpot, the room adjacent to her and Francis's bedchamber. She had barely reached it before everything left her stomach, her face firmly inside the chamberpot.

She felt terrible, her head was heating up and she was sweating horribly. She had never felt like this during her first three pregnancies and everything seemed to weaken her. She didn't even feel attractive enough to make love to Francis, not that they hadn't done that prior to her quick turn in health.

"Mary!"

She reached out for Francis to take her hand, his other hand firmly intent in rubbing her back as she sobbed.

"It's horrible, Francis," she said, crying. "I feel disgusting."

"Do not be silly," her husband scolded her gently. "You are very much a beauty, even in your current state."

Mary chuckled bitterly before more came up her throat and she hurled, drips of sweat following into the chamberpot after. She didn't feel like a beauty at all.

"You're burning up," Francis whispered, feeling her forehead. "You must rest."

"I cannot go a few minutes without feeling as if I want to throw up," Mary explained. "I feel weak."

Francis kissed her back. "Shall I carry you?"

She didn't have the strength to reply so she nodded meekly, feeling dazed when she was suddenly lifted into her husband's strong arms. She rested her head against his chest as he walked her into their bedchamber, placing her onto their bed with care.

"I will retrieve a fresh chamberpot in case you-"

He didn't even finish his sentence when she threw up onto the carpet, laughing slightly at her mishap. He didn't even bat an eyelid, smiling softly as he promised to return soon.

Mary reminded herself of what her late mother told her about whilst the dowager queen was expecting her. She had the most severe sickness and nothing could stop it. It made her disheartened. Not even Catherine's special prune juice helped.

"Mary," Francis called out to her, placing the chamberpot onto the ground on his side. "I'll move you onto this side so that the handmaidens can clean the carpet."

She nodded, being shifted onto the other side by her husband before he handed her a letter. Curiously, she opened it up and scanned its contents.

"It's a wedding invite," she told her husband.

"Whose?"

Mary looked up at him. "Catherine's."


	22. A Secret Plan For The Queen

**It's a little short, but that's because it's Catherine's fault haha. Enjoy!**

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**Guest (1) [chapter 21]: Thanks for reading and you're welcome! I'm missing them too. Might have two more chapters for Frary based things before the children come back into the scene.**

****elder 441 [chapter 21]: That's not the only twist ;)****

****Guest (2) [chapter 21]: Thank you :) Here's the next chapter, enjoy!****

* * *

Adorned with jewellery and a high-collared black dress with silver detailing, Mary finished her look off with a circlet and not a crown. She did not want to overshadow Catherine's day. More so that the woman specifically requested that Francis not attend.

"I don't think you should go alone," Francis told her, watching her as she fixed her dress so it wasn't too snug.

"I'll be fine. It's a small wedding, what could go wrong?"

"Everything," Francis replied. "What about Charles and Henri? Where do they fit into this? My mother is in charge of France whilst I am gone and if we're both here in Scotland..."

Mary turned to him. "Are you nervous about a new stepfather?"

"Why would I be nervous?" Her husband asked. "I am the main attraction of France, what my mother and siblings do is none of my business. I am happy for her, as long as it doesn't have an impact on me and France."

"And what about me?" Mary asked him. "Your mother's actions affect me as well."

Francis nodded. "Exactly. Be wary, Mary."

"I will," she promised him. "I'll bring Kenna along just in case."

"And if you need me, I will be nearby."

She turned and gave him a small smile.

...

Mary and Kenna arrived at the church just out of the village where Catherine's wedding was to take place.

The place was sparse, barely a living soul present as gravestones surrounding the small church. It made both Mary and Kenna uncomfortable and Mary pressed against her hip where a concealed weapon was.

"Catherine wants to be wed here?" Kenna asked her friend in disdain. "Not what I'd expect for the Queen Mother of France _at all_."

"Indeed," Mary said, watching as her guards scouted the area.

They soon entered the church once they were given the all-clear, feeling the warmth of the candles lit immediately when they stepped over the threshold. It was more elegant inside, Kenna feeling guilty to as judged it before she saw what it had to offer.

It was probably Catherine's doing.

"Mary, you made it!"

They turned their heads to the side to see Catherine walk up to them, rounding the pews to get to them. She wore a gold dress, her hair done up elegantly with curls bordering her cheeks.

"I was not sure if you would come," Catherine said once she reached them.

"A marriage alliance, is it?" Mary asked her.

Catherine tilted her head. "Now, that was a ploy, Mary dear."

"A ploy?" Mary asked cautiously. "Is there not a wedding?"

"No, there isn't," Catherine confessed. "I just had to get you to come here so we could talk. I never knew you'd bring a member of your _flying squad_."

Kenna narrowed her eyes. "You led Mary here under false pretences. Why do you-"

"Be quiet, the queens are talking," Catherine cut her off, dismissively.

"Catherine, I have good reason to turn around and leave," Mary warned her. "Now that you've insulted my friend."

"It was supposed to be you alone," Catherine replied.

Mary smiled wryly. "You obviously see why I do not trust you."

"Fair play," Catherine said, gesturing for them to sit down.

Mary sat down first, Catherine following and Kenna last. She waited for Catherine to start, her patience for the woman thinning quickly as the need to throw up increased.

"You believe that I am conspiring against you," Catherine told her.

"Are you not?" Mary snapped angrily. "Francis begs me to trust you, but I can't. You have never tolerated-"

"Mary, remember there was a time I supported you following a very traumatic ordeal," Catherine said gently. "I need you to show me the same compassion as I did towards you."

"You're jealous, Catherine. I do not even know why," Mary said softly. "Very well, I will hear what you have to say."

Catherine smiled. "Thank you," she replied. "For the past six years, I have been putting a plan into action regarding France and Scotland's claim over England. Henry went about it the wrong way, I aim to do it the _better_ way."

Mary's eyebrows raised. "Go on."

"Elizabeth has yet to bear a child, and let's face it - the time is against her. No husband, no lovers, no child... Her people see her as weak," Catherine explained. "But you are on your fourth child, they see you as-"

"Strong."

Catherine gave her a nod. "Heirs are the best thing to secure your rule. Without them, there are clauses put into place to remove you. I know I've been harsh towards you regarding male heirs, but I hope you understand the importance."

"I do," Mary replied, straightening her back. "So your involvement with the English?"

"Do you really think I would give myself away as a woman of the French ruling family?" Catherine asked her dubiously. "I've seduced a few hundred men here and there, played along with whatever salvaged their needs and in return, I got the information I wanted. It is all for you and Francis."

Mary frowned deeply. "Why didn't you tell us? Why did you allow us to believe-"

"Francis would never let me go through with it. He could easily undermine or overrule me because he's _king_. But you, Mary, you are more understanding," Catherine told her. "You can help me and with your Scottish links..." She eyed Kenna. "Securing England will be a definite plan."

Mary turned to Kenna. "I believe she is hoping that your father will help her."

"Hoping?" Catherine repeated. "I am not requesting, I am demanding."

Kenna sighed, rubbing her head. "Well, my father's involvement in politics and wars are long behind him. He will not offer any men nor aid in your cause, Catherine. Despite what you've done for me in the past, even they can't sway his mind."

"Then, I believe it is time to meet this infamous Duke Beaton," Catherine said shrilly. "I heard he has not yet remarried-"

"You will _not_ be my stepmother!"

"Who says I have to be your stepmother?" Catherine asked Kenna with a smirk. "I have other means than a ring and a contract."

Kenna scowled. "Then you will not seduce my father. Anyway, he is not yet over my mother and her death-"

"I know exactly when the second duchess died," Catherine cut her off. "I also have a way to make men forget just like..." She clicked her fingers. "That. Now, let's get this journey started. I want to do this quickly because Scotland is not anywhere I'd like to remain for a long period of time in."

"There's a problem," Mary said. "We are not currently at Castle Barton nor do we intend to go back until a few weeks time."

"I'm sorry?"

Mary briefly eyed Kenna before her sights settled on Catherine again. "We are on a much-needed retreat. But I won't stop you from seeing your granddaughters and grandson."

Catherine's eyes lit up. "Y-You're allowing me to see the children after all this time?"

"I am. Don't make me regret it," Mary replied. "Now, if you'll excuse us, my friend still needs to enjoy her honeymoon."


	23. A Childhood Dream For The Queen

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**elder441 [chapter 22]: Thanks! Enjoy the next chapter!**

**Guest (1) [chapter 22]: Catherine always comes back with a bang! Here's the next chapter. **

****Guest (2) [chapter 22]: I definitely need to feature a chapter with Mary and her 'Flying Squad', we'll have the girls back together soon!****

* * *

Mary sighed heavily, placing the book she was reading on her lap. She could barely leave her bedchamber let alone her bed. _Hers_ because she had to kick Francis out due to him not being able to sleep properly because of her vomiting every other hour.

She tried some drinks after drinks, tonic after tonic - nothing helped.

Mary missed Francis. She had hoped they could do more than what they did on the journey here. She knew her friend was enjoying the book for sure, Kenna coyly admitting everything she did because of that book.

She prayed that God would give her a break and let her enjoy the rest of her time here. She was a queen, not an ailing person.

The door opened and Francis stepped through. "How are you doing?"

"Not so well," she replied, giving him a sad smile. "Come, join me."

"I have plans," he told her, opening the other door so that servants could bring items inside. "Remember when we were little and had that puppet show presented to us? About the little princess and the little king?"

"Reversed roles," Mary teased, nodding. "I do."

"Well, I have managed to employ some actors to show us that very story."

Mary frowned. "But the original actors would be in their old age-"

"Their children, Mary," her husband happily said. "They stuck to their ancestors' trade and became actors themselves. They're downstairs."

"Francis, that is so sweet," Mary said, smiling brightly. "Thank you."

Francis waved her off and gestured for a handmaiden to come. "Get the queen dressed." He then walked over to a guard. "The thrones downstairs, bring them up."

Mary watched as her husband ordered people around, his blue eyes bright and happy as she could see the excitement in them. He looked like a boy again and she felt like a girl, getting up from the bed to follow the handmaiden behind the screen.

"Hurry, Mary!" Her husband's voice came out. "They're nearly done with the tour."

...

"_...We can be just a girl and just a boy. Forget our titles!"_

_"...But I can't. I am a king and one day I will be married to another - I am promised to an-"_

The female actress pressed her lips against the male actor's lips, both of them settling into a soft sigh. Soft and happy.

It made Mary's eyes tear up and she blamed her pregnancy, reaching over to grab Francis's hand and squeeze it tightly.

_"Very well, we will be just a girl and just a boy. Tomorrow, we go back to as we were and I will wave you 'goodbye'."_

Mary gasped softly. She remembered the last time she and Francis saw each other before she was sent back to Scotland and to a convent. Before her life was made simple with simple food and simple people all around her. No delicate, expensive dresses or jewellery present.

It felt like a lifetime ago, the earrings weighing heavy on her ears and her dress suddenly feeling too tight. She never remembered this story being sadder than it was when she was a child.

Of course, they'd found each other and got married, having many little princes and princesses, but this version seemed hellbent on keeping the princess and king apart.

She was the princess of a small country and he was the boy king of a bigger country and kingdom, there was no hope for them.

Unless...

_"What do you mean, Marie? Your father conquered the neighbouring countries?"_

_"Yes, Fran!"_

_"Dear God, perhaps I can make things work and talk to my advisors. You are almost as big as me!"_

_"My love, nothing can keep us apart. Not even the sea or our parents, dead and gone. When my father passes in the next few days, I will be queen and I will make you my husband for life."_

Mary silently begged for the couple to get together.

Unfortunately, it wasn't to be and before she was crowned queen, Marie died and her younger sister, only six years of age became queen. The poor girl queen was quickly betrothed to another king and Fran refused to marry, declaring his brother as his heir. He was betrayed by his cousins and their family became the ruling family.

All of this made Mary cry and she loved the spin the new actors made on this story, her childhood favourite.

"Your Majesty - we are so sorry, we did not mean to make you cry," the male actor said as Francis handed his wife a handkerchief.

"No," Mary said, sniffling. "It was beautiful. Excuse me, I just was surprised."

The female actress laughed nervously. "It is the first time we've made it our own. We are in modern ages, Your Majesties."

"Of course," Francis replied. "Wonderful. In fact, why don't you both join us for dinner? We must reward you more than coin for your wonderful effort."

"Yes," Mary said in agreement. "We must."

Over dinner, the performing couple acted casually for Kenna and Bash, Kenna gasping at every twist and turn, her husband taking it all in over his wine. Mary even began mouthing the words, now learnt off by heart as some were instilled into her brain since she was a girl.

"Do you have plays that end happily?" Kenna asked teasingly when the performance was done.

Joy, the woman replied, "Well, what is your story? I see that you and your husband have not taken your hands off each other's knees for the past two hours."

Kenna chuckled, sipping her wine. "Well, surely you have heard our story. It was the talk of the French Court for years."

"We do not take to idle gossip," Xavier replied, eyeing her curiously. "May I guess freely, under Their Majesties' presence?"

"You may," Francis told him, smirking. "You'll never guess it."

Bash remained silent, the obvious sign of his embarrassment from the tips of his ears, stained pink. His face was calm and collected, his eyes almost daring as to let them say one word out of place.

Joy studied them. "It was a marriage alliance, as usual, and you both hated each other from your childhood. That obviously turned into sexual aggression and you couldn't help but fall in love after all."

Kenna giggled, clapping her hands. "You are wrong, but that does sound very _exciting_!"

"Kenna, darling," Bash said softly. "Why are we humouring this?"

"It's fun," Mary replied. "They know our story." She gestured to her and Francis. "What is wrong with them knowing yours?"

Bash sighed. "Well, go ahead then."

Xavier took a long sip of his wine before saying, "_Not_ an alliance, but forced. I do not even need to continue, it's in your eyes. It's also a painful memory."

"Yes," Kenna said quietly, sipping her wine and planting a smile on her face. "I can read people and, well you can too."

"Then, let's leave it at-"

"A king forced his illegitimate son and his mistress to wed, years later they are a happy and loving couple with children," Joy quickly said. "You are right, I do listen to gossip."

Mary cleared her throat, the awkwardness lifting as she talked about England.

"Do you have any plays in England?"

"We do, for the Queen of England," Xavier said. "Can we just say that you and King Francis make for better audiences. She ignored our masterpieces every event she hired us for. Some people just do not understand art."

"Being an actor must pay well," Francis said. "For showing us such a wonderful performance, we'd like you to perform for our children. Just as your mother," he looked at Joy. "And your father..." He turned to Xavier. "Did for us."

Mary turned to her husband and gave him a wide smile. It must have been a childhood dream, to have her children blessed with the things she experienced when she was their age.

She was glad she had a happy ending.


	24. A Few Good Reasons For The Queen

**Sorry for the delay! It's my older brother's birthday soon and since he hasn't gone back home or isn't out of the house a lot, it's hard planning a party right under his nose haha. Also, been buying stuff for my new house share at university so making sure that my stuff from last year can be used for this year as well. Life is hectic, but relieved to get back into the swing of things!**

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**Guest (1) [chapter 23]: He is :)**

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* * *

"Now that you are feeling better, I was thinking that we could go to the races."

Mary stopped brushing her hair, turning to her husband. "The _races_?"

"Yes," Francis replied. "Why, is there something wrong with the races?"

Mary chuckled to herself, turning back to face the mirror. "Men with money go to the races obviously. Never kings or queens - it's a _prince_ thing."

"Is it?"

"I've heard princes before my time taking women there to do all sorts of things, other than watch the actual races. It's a glorified whorehouse in Scotland," Mary explained, patting some rouge to her cheeks. "We can go to _the_ races."

"There's two?" Francis asked, eyes wide.

"It's how you say it," Mary told him. "The _races_, the glorified whorehouse. _The_ races, the elegant horse betting house. Nobles rub shoulders there and you must make reservations."

Francis nodded. "I see. Would they accept their queen and king to show up unexpectedly?"

"Why shouldn't they? I'll get dressed."

After eating breakfast and getting ready, Mary settled herself in the carriage as Francis spoke to the driver.

Their plans were made out of the blue and they needed to be sure that security and guards would be present and tight. She had not been planning to leave the palace during their short stay.

"Alright," Francis told the driver, finally getting into the carriage. He turned to his wife. "I promise I won't spend that much."

"How about none at all?" Mary teased lightly. "We didn't come to Scotland to lose all our wealth on horses."

Francis smirked. "Glad I have the best advisor one can buy when it comes to horses."

"What do you mean?"

"Bash is coming along and so is Kenna, so you won't feel bored."

Mary sighed. "Francis! They're supposed to be enjoying their honeymoon and _we're_ supposed to be spending time with each other."

"It's a shame we didn't choose to go to the _races_," he replied coyly, kissing her cheek. "Don't worry, I've read the itinerary. It's a four-hour event and three of those hours are used to wine and dine. We can sneak out then."

"Then, it's a plan."

...

By the time the horse events were over and Francis had a bit more money than he started with, he led Mary to their carriage.

As they left, Mary felt overwhelmed by the amount of awe and attention she got from her subjects. Duchesses, countesses and the like all courtesied and gushed over her as their daughters courtesied sweetly and wished their queen well.

Times like these made Mary miss Scotland very much.

"I thought my people would hate me," Mary said softly when they got into their carriage. "For the longest of times, Scotland has been in relation to France and our marriage caused upset in both countries. Now... Now they all accept us and they root for us."

"Why did you fear they won't accept us?" Francis asked her.

Mary shrugged. "Because I let Scotland go. I remained in France whenever she really needed me and we shan't forget the time you locked me up in a tower," she said, the last bit teasingly. "It's nice to see that I still have support."

"Even if you don't have that from Scotland, you sure as hell do, from France," Francis promised her, kissing the side of her head. "Shall we return to the palace?"

"We shall."

It was late afternoon when they returned to the palace, Mary already making her way up to their bedchamber.

She felt tired from the day's events, bemoaning that it wasn't as fun as she thought it would be with Kenna. Especially watching their husbands try and catch onto the next win.

She couldn't deny Francis anywhere that he wanted to visit. He was trying to make Scotland his home, trying to be like their people, trying to _fit in_.

According to some nobles who sat around them, Bash was more Scottish at this rate than Francis much to her amusement.

_Kenna has Bash whipped_, Mary thought happily.

By the time she reached the doors, she felt her husband's arms wrap around her waist.

"Are you annoyed?"

"With what?" She asked him, turning around to face him properly.

"With _the_ races or however you say it," he said lightly.

She shook her head. "No, it's just that I had plans to remain in bed all day. Do things I couldn't do when I was emptying my guts every hour."

Francis grinned. "And what are they?"

Mary blushed, tilting her head. "I don't know... things we can't do when we have children burst through the doors every night as well."

"Do these things lead to a baby by chance?"

"I am already expecting a baby," Mary said, laughing. "But I believe so."

She looked down, sliding his hand to rest on her non-visible bump. She was excited, but she had plans to treasure every moment she had with her husband before the baby came. Before they went back to Castle Barton.

"Open the doors," Francis whispered into her ear.

Curiously, Mary turned around and opened the doors. She stepped inside and gasped when she saw that the room had been transformed into a scene from a fairytale.

Roses wrapped around the bedposts, candles were lit and formed in heart shapes on the dressers, the tables by the chaises and sofa as well as the dining table.

Flower petals littered the floor randomly and Mary sniffed, smelling the soft and sweet aroma of fruit and lavender.

"H-How?"

"I had to get you out of this bed somehow!" Francis told her, closing the doors behind him and locking them. "This trip is making you lazy, dear wife."

"Lazy?" Mary cried out, turning to him with a light scoff. "Don't think all of this will let you have all of this..." She gestured to her body. "If you call me 'lazy' again."

Francis chuckled, walking up to her to kiss her softly. "You've been feeling down."

"It's the baby. The sickness was never like this with the first three."

"My mother always said that to be a sign that it would be a son," Francis said. "But I don't mind, either way, you do know that?"

Mary nodded. "Actually, I would prefer a son though." Her conversation with Catherine sprung to mind. "You will never know what could happen in the future..."

"No," Francis said. "We will not. Anyway..." He trailed off, beginning to undo her laces blindly. "I figured the live adaptation of the puppet show wouldn't be enough to lighten your spirits."

"You shouldn't have..." Mary said, her lips curling into a pleased and satisfied smile as her corset loosened.

She stepped back from his embrace and shed her remaining clothes off, giving him a look to do the same as she sauntered towards the bed.

"I don't think I've ever done something as romantic for _you,_" she told him, sighing wistfully. "Even after I had James, you had fireflies in the sky for me. God, Francis! Let me catch up and-"

She squealed, arms lifting her up and gently throwing her onto the bed. She gasped mockingly and turned to give Francis an annoyed look.

"I was _talking_," she said.

"You talk too much," was her husband's reply as he hovered over her and planted kisses on her jawline.

"Dear God," she breathed out, placing her hands on his shoulders.

"Praying now?" He teases against her skin, moving downwards to her collarbone and sucking at the skin there.

Mary bit her lip, the bottom of her stomach twisting into knots. "Should I be?"

His lips moved up to hover over hers. "By the time I'm done with you, you'll be _singing_."

Mary let out an amused scoff. "So sure of yourself?" She asked, playfully rolling her eyes. "I never knew my husband was so _arrogant_."

"I never knew my wife talked too much," Francis retorted, grinning as he moved down and kissed the valley between her breasts. "I never knew she was also so rebellious as a child..."

"Now who's talking too..." Her eyes fluttered closed and she lost her words, the feeling of her husband's breath on the most private feature on her body. "F-Francis?"

"Yes?"

Mary let out a sharp gasp, feeling the warmth of his breath teasing her. "C-Can you...?"

"Can I what?"

Mary's eyes snapped open and she used her elbows to sit up slightly to glare at him. "Francis!"

"Mary!" Her husband laughed, kissing the inside of her thigh. The kiss lasted a good few seconds before he continued to trail downwards.

"You're evil," she mumbled, covering her face as she laid back down.

It wasn't long after until she felt something slide in her tantalisingly slow and her breath hitched in her throat, her eyes screwing shut.

"Am I still evil?"

She couldn't even speak as she shook her head. "N-No."

She tried initiating more movement, quicker movement, but her pelvis was pushed down and she whined, her husband's finger again, slowly pulling out. It was all to slow for her liking as she wanted to reach her climax.

"Did the bloody book tell you to be so _slow_?" She asked, groaning in annoyance.

"It told me to make you _work for it_," he replied making her gasp.

"Darn you, Francis!"

"Let me enjoy my sweet, sweet revenge."

Mary allowed him to have his fun, he had been really sweet lately and she had kind of left him hanging that night a good few times. He deserved a reward and if he wanted it to be him pleasuring her, then she'll receive her punishment.

Sometimes queens needed to relax.

He replaced his finger with his mouth and she let out mewls, gripping onto his curls tightly as he moved quicker now, her hips bucking and being pressed back down every now and then.

When she let go, she sighed happily and opened her eyes just in time for her lips to connect with his. He always treated her, she ought to think of something that could outdo his lovely gestures, sexual or otherwise.

"You're still quaking," he teased and she laughed, noticing that she still felt the tingles from what he'd done to her.

"Well, give me more reasons to quake until tomorrow."

"How about I give you reasons for your legs to stop working?"

She laughed. "I dare you to try."

He flipped her over on all fours, entering her from behind. He kissed her back as she reached back to press him further into her. Slowly, he began to move. In and out, in and out...

"Y-You're only giving me reasons to fall asleep," Mary jested, turning her head to their lips met and battled against each other.

"I'm still relieved that I can try so many positions with you because our child inside you is not yet huge," he said, disregarding her quip. "I'll give you reasons to feel so satisfied, you'd be begging for me to bed you over the dinner table as we sit across from other people. We gave people a show once, what's another?"

Mary let out a breathy chuckle as sweat began to form on her head. "Dear God, what have I got myself into?"


	25. A Quiet Sunday With The Queen

**Well, my Saturday was wild! Turns out, my brother's friends had a party planned for him so we ended up having _two_ parties for the lucky idiot. He had three cakes, so many gifts that make me jealous, haha. We also went clubbing with a few of his friends and got back early Sunday morning (depending on when this is posted). I'm literally yawning as I continue to write this because I wrote it then added a few more bits and changed some bits. Anyway, enjoy the next chapter!**

**It's a bit short because I have a lovely little chapter that follows on from the end and I knew it would need some tweaking, but I still wanted to give you something! Enjoy!**

**Replies to reviews:**

**Guest (1) [chapter 24]: Haha, thank you so much! Planned the party semi-successfully, might be the last party I plan in a while because it is stressful af! Ooh, wonderful ideas ;)**

**elder441 [chapter 24]: Thanks! Enjoy the next chapter :)**

**BlerBlerBler [chapter 24]: Hehe, yes! Right now, they would be less as I've got plans! :)**

****Guest (2) [chapter 24]: He really does! I also need a Francis in my life. Recently newly single so gotta find me a Francis!****

* * *

Before she knew it, Mary was back at Castle Barton, surrounded by her children. She had kissed them multiple times and hugged them tightly, promising to not leave as long as she did the next time but it was a much-needed break away from parenthood and her duties as queen.

She giggled when Rose plaited flowers into her hair and James reached up, trying to ruin his sister's hard work. She let it happen, he was a baby after all and Rose thankfully had the patience to redo what her baby brother had undone.

Anne was reading a book, laying over her legs as they lounged under the sun in the gardens. The weather was great lately, but Mary knew it would change sooner rather than later as she saw grey clouds litter the sky.

"Mama?" Anne called her, picking up her book and shoving it in her mother's face. "Can you read that word for me, please?"

Mary nodded and glanced at the word. "_'Echelon'_," she told her daughter before reading the complete sentence. "Is this book about me?"

Anne nodded. "Grandpapa Robert was teaching us about our Scottish ancestry," she told her mother. "Did you know your papa fought _boars_?"

Mary chuckled, shaking her head to a memory of Henry riding a boar through the halls and throne room. It seemed that both of their fathers enjoyed boar sports for some reason.

"No, I didn't."

"This book says that _you_ are in the upper _epsilon_ of society, being a queen," Anne told her mother.

Mary smiled. "I am the in the upper _echelon_ of society and so are Papa, you and your siblings."

"Why?"

"Because our family rule Scotland and France," Mary explained. "Papa has France and I have Scotland and one day-"

"James will get both and be king," Rose said, cutting into their conversation. "Will I be a queen, Mama?"

Mary shrugged. "We'll see."

She looked around, noting that everything was peaceful. It was a Sunday after all and most were at Church or resting up after the long week.

She missed Francis. He'd joined the Beatons, Robin and Bash on their visit to the Church and she had to stay because her sickness had returned and the minute she stepped into the carriage, she threw up everywhere.

Not wanting to miss any time with their mother, her daughters pleaded to stay and she accepted, pressing more kisses onto their cheeks and heads.

"It's Robin's birthday soon," Rose piped up after a while. "Grandpapa Robert is getting him a boat named after him. I want a boat named after me."

"Wait until your birthday," Mary replied, amused. She fully knew well that they would be back in France by then so there would be no boats gifted to the princess. Perhaps jewels or clothing instead.

Mary laid back, letting James crawl off to Anne as she closed her eyes and sighed happily. She could live like this forever, no duties as the queen but only as a mother.

Her mind drifted back to her husband. In fact, it was _his_ birthday soon. He and Robin shared the same birthday month and she wondered what he could do for him.

What could you do for the man who had everything and more already? What could you do for the man who gave _you_ everything and more?

She shot up, turning to her children. "Girls?"

"Yes, Mama?"

"Do you like painting?" She asked them.

Her daughters' eyes sparkled.

...

Mary bit her lip, watching as her girls did the finishing touches of the mural on the wall of the bedchamber she shared with Francis. Mary knew that although Robert Beaton welcomed them into his home, he would be surprised to see a painting for a guest done in one of his chambers.

She hoped he wouldn't mind that much, he had been happy for the life the children brought to the castle.

"What do you think, Mama?" Rose asked, standing back with her paintbrush.

Mary looked down at her, stroking her hair before viewing the masterpiece before them. It was based on Francis's most prized horse, Leon.

"Who taught you how to paint?" Mary asked them.

"Governess Susanne," Anne replied. "She always lets us paint after our lessons."

Mary beamed. "I'm glad she does. You both paint like you are experts."

"Why, thank you, Mama," Rose gushed.

For the finishing touches, Mary placed her hand in royal blue paint, her husband's favourite colour, and pressed her hand against the heart of the horse. She then handed the palette to her daughters for them to repeat her action. She even lifted James onto her hip and dabbed his hand with the blue paint before sticking it beside Rose's.

"All done!" Anne announced. "Can we make lime pies for Papa now?"

Mary nodded, smiling. "You have learned an awful lot whilst Papa and I were gone, haven't you?"

"We were bored," Rose replied shrugging. "But now that you are back, we can go horseriding again!"

"Yes, yes we can."

Mary ushered the children into the bathroom, getting them to wash their hands in the basin. She was relieved that they hadn't stained their clothes, some paints were hard to get out of and she didn't want to inconvenience the staff.

"I'm happy that you are back, Mama," Anne said sweetly, hugging Mary's legs.

Mary bent down to kiss Anne's cheek. "I am happy that I am back as well, my darlings," she said, pressing another kiss to Rose's cheek before moving onto James's. "Come along now, let's go to the kitchens and politely ask the chefs if we can borrow their time to make your father some lime pies."


	26. A Quiet Dinner With The Queen

**Replies to reviews:**

**elder 441 [chapter 25]: Thank you!**

**Guest (1) [chapter 25]: Thank you, here's the next chapter!**

**Guest (2) [chapter 25]: Haha, thanks so much! They were really inspiring! **

**Guest (3) [chapter 25]: He is such a great king, father, brother, husband, brother-in-law, uncle etc, he deserves the world and more! Here is the next chapter, it serves as a part two for the previous one!**

****Feel free to put down ideas! :) I will start a separate story for one-shots. One for Frary and one for Kennash. This story is more of a loosely-based plotline about their family life, but the one-shots are based on anything and everything, both modern AU or true AU.****

* * *

As the girls placed the lime pies on the tray, Mary heard voices heading towards the kitchens. She turned to the cook who had the same idea, rushing out of the door.

"Your Majesty! You can't come in, there's been a..." She turned to look at Mary.

"A fire!" She whispered, handing James to one of the lower cooks as she grabbed a serving dome to cover the pies.

"A fire!" The cook told Francis. She gave him and Bash, a bright smile. "We have it all in hand, I assure you both."

"Have you seen the Queen?" Francis asked. "I can't find her or our children anywhere and I've heard from the Duke that she spent her time in the kitchens on Sundays."

Mary cursed her relative for putting a potential hideout to her husband. Not that he didn't already know, but she was organising a surprise.

"Well, I assure you that the Queen hasn't been here. Not whilst there is a fire on the stoves!" The cook told him. "Perhaps she went to the gardens. Some handmaidens saw her and the children whilst they were doing laundry."

"Very well," Francis replied, leading Bash away.

The cook closed the door and turned to Mary, sighing in relief.

"We better start serving these before the princesses eat them all!"

Mary giggled, kissing her daughters' heads as she lifted the tray and went through the secret servants' door to head to the private dining hall. She placed the lime pies in the middle, instructing the other cooks to place the food that they'd prepared equidistant to the pies, the main attraction.

"All of his favourites," Mary gushed, wiping her hands. "I'm sure he misses France. The girls were clever enough to suggest that we cook French food."

"They were, Ma'am," the cook replied. "I will get the best wine."

After the candles were lit and the food was presented, Mary ushered the girls into the dining room and sat them down in their respective seats. It would be a small, family lunch.

Before she called her husband, she headed back to the kitchens and brought the cook aside.

"Chocolate, do we have any?" She asked.

The cook nodded. "We do, Your Majesty."

"My husband and I will not be attending dinner this evening. Bring the chocolate up to our bedchamber melted along with some fruit, if you do not mind," Mary told her.

"Mind? Duke Beaton may be paying my wages, but _you_ are my queen. Of course, I do not mind," the cook replied. "Anything else?"

Mary smiled. "The strawberry wine. I'll pay you for your troubles because I know that my uncle keeps it hidden."

"Leave it to me," the cook said, winking.

Mary returned back into the private dining room, seeing that James was seated in a chair with arms so prevent him from falling. It made her laugh, such a tiny person in a big person's seat. She gave Anne a look when the girl stuffed a small bun into her brother's chubby, little hands.

Well, he was a baby with an appetite. She couldn't blame her children from being peckish as they waited for their father to attend. She hoped that the handmaiden found him quickly. The gardens were a fair distance away from the private dining room.

"Just through here, Your Majesty..." She heard the handmaiden finally say after a while, leading her husband through the doors.

He paused as the handmaiden backed out of the room and closed the door for them. He looked around and saw his children (well, the girls) sitting politely on their chairs as Mary stood beside the table with a wide smile.

"I think you were missing France," she told him, pulling out the chair at the head of the table. "Come, sit."

Francis walked over and took a seat, pulling it in himself as Mary went to the other side and sat down. "A family meal?"

"Yes, Papa!" Anne said, pointing to the lime pies. "We made you little lime pies!"

Francis chuckled. "I think we should save those for afters."

"Indeed," Mary said, preparing a plate for Rose first. "We just needed some family time."

"I believe so, too," Francis said, helping her make Anne a plate. "And all my favourites as well? You're spoiling me."

"That's not all," Mary replied, winking at him. "But some things are best left for _afters_ if you understand what I mean."

Francis looked at her. "So brazen, are you? In front of the children as well!"

"What does that mean?" Rose asked them.

Mary giggled. "Nevermind, sweetling. Your father is attempting to make a joke, he's failed."

"Let's hope that's the only thing I fail at," he said, not leaving her eyes.

"Francis!" She breathed out, blushing. It _was_ her plan for dinner. "Well, eat up. We have a full day of activities to do."

...

Curtains drawn, more candles lit. Mary made her way over to the large bowl of melted chocolate, dipping her finger into the liquid and licking it from her finger.

Francis had gone for a horse ride after lunch with the children and she'd gone to visit Kenna, taking a page from another book of her friend's. _How To Treat Your Husband Like The King He Is_. Or in Kenna's words, _Sex, Sex and More Sex. Oh, and Make Sure He Wants Even More Because He's Insatiable_.

Obviously sex wasn't the only thing she was offering Francis. She wanted him to be pampered, loved and well cared for. The horseriding brought up a perfect situation.

She walked over to the bath, feeling the temperature of the water. Piping hot. It will be a while until it cooled down and her husband would be able to soak in it.

She wiped her hands and collected her old chess set, laying out the pieces on a tray and placing it on one of the side tables. She placed the bowl of chocolate on the other and covered it with the tray full of fruit.

Mary waited ten minutes before the handle of the door went down and the door was pushed open, her husband appearing and closing the door behind him.

He smiled softly. "More surprises?" He asked, gesturing to her black, lace lingerie.

"I'm just grateful for having a husband like you," Mary replied, pulling him over to the bath. "You're dirty, so undress and get in."

She checked the water once again as her husband stripped his clothes. It was better now and she grabbed the basket full of lavender plants and lemon slices.

Francis got onto the stool and eased himself into the water, sighing in relief as he turned to his wife. "I got cocky," he said.

"Oh?" She replied, putting half of the basket contents inside.

"Bash came along with Robin and well, the children demanded to know whose father was a better horseman," Francis explained, laughing.

Mary smirked, raising an eyebrow as she grabbed a cloth and began to clean his body. "Who won? Don't leave me in suspense, husband."

"The man formerly known as the _Master of Horse and Hunt_ won, of course," Francis replied, soaking his face with the water. "Robin was very happy, I had to give him some coin to stop singing how much of a loser I was! What a cheeky nephew we have."

Mary began to laugh, kissing his cheek. "You still win in my heart."

"And may that be for life," her husband whispered, capturing her lips in a sweet kiss.

Pulling away, Mary helped him bathe, almost getting wetter than him at certain points. He couldn't keep his hands off her and although her pregnancy was bringing out a more brazen side to her, she didn't want to head straight to lovemaking, she needed to take her time with pampering her king and husband.

After the bath, she had him settled in bed. She got in, laying over the covers as she reached over him to collect the chessboard. She then placed it between them.

"Remember playing chess as children?" She asked, moving a piece.

Her husband moved his own piece. "How could I forget? You kept winning."

"Only because you let me."

"Well, if you win on your own merit, I will thoroughly make sure you are pleasured when-"

"Francis, it is _you_ being pampered! You always thoroughly please me, let me please _you_," his wife cut him off. "Come on, one game - the fruit is starting to make me drool."

When he'd won, deciding that winning all the time was boring, she handed him the bowl of chocolate and retrieved the fruit from the top, plopping a cranberry into her mouth.

Her husband got a strawberry and dipped it in the chocolate, eating it fully. He picked up a grape and fed it to Mary.

Mary chewed it, collecting a green grape, dipping it into the chocolate and sliding it into Francis's mouth. In doing so, her finger ended up wrapped around his lips and he sucked it, making her laugh.

"What a child," she said.

"Mother always told me to finish my food," Francis quick reply came as he watched her collect a piece of sliced apple. "Making sure that _nothing_ remains."

"Is that right?"

Before she knew it, they were covered in chocolate. It caked her hair and his as her stained hands cupped his cheeks and his own tangled in her hair.

Mary mentally cursed when she realised that the lingerie was now stained. It cost a pretty penny and it was borrowed. She'll make it up to Kenna somehow. Perhaps a sparkly tiara or something.

"Mary..."

"Hmm?"

"The children will be at dinner right now."

"And?"

"That gives us an hour or so until they storm into here as if they own the bloody place," her husband replied, undoing the laces of the lingerie.

Mary laughed, pressing a kiss on Francis's jawline. "Fine. Take it all off."

"Before we make love," he began, sliding the clothing off her body. "I noticed that beautiful painting on the wall."

Mary grinned. "The girls did it. I helped and so did James, in his own way... It's of-"

"Leon," her husband whispered. "It makes me miss France, but I'm glad I am wherever you are."

Mary smiled brightly. "I am happy I am wherever you are, too. I love you."

"I love you, too."


	27. A Bit Of Roleplay With The Queen

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**Guest (1) [chapter 26]: Thanks so much! The one-shots will be started in the near future :)**

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**elder441 [chapter 26]: Thanks so much! :)**

**Guest (3) [chapter 26]: That chapter is in the works very soon! :)**

**Guest (4) [chapter 26]: Here's the next chapter! Enjoy :)**

* * *

"Mary! Mary, guess what?"

Francis burst into their bedchamber, holding a letter but he froze when he saw that a servant was tending to the bed. He sighed and cleared his throat.

"I apologise for my bursting in. I did not know that my wife would be out nor that our bedchamber would be attended to," he told the servant. When she didn't turn around, he frowned. "Please, show me your face so I can apologise to you properly and pay you for your troubles."

The servant finally turned and around and Francis froze when he saw that it was his _wife._ The same Mary he was calling for.

"Mary?"

"Who is this Mary?" Mary asked, trying to keep a straight face. "Oh, you mean Her Majesty, Queen Mary of Scots?"

Francis paused, looking at his wife and then the floor and then his wife again. "Mary... W-What is this?"

"Shh," Mary said. "Francis, don't ruin this."

"Ruin what?" Francis asked, smirking. "What is this?"

Mary blushed furiously. "Kenna read that roleplaying was exciting in that stupid book. She and Bash do it."

"They do, huh?" Francis asked coyly. "Any idea of exactly what they do?"

"Francis, I am _not_ giving you leverage against your brother!" Mary said, laughing. "But I have heard that before the children, they used to dress as a servant and a handmaiden and well-"

"Say no more," Francis said with a mischievous grin. "So, what are we doing?"

Mary tilted her head. "I am Helena, your new handmaiden, Your Majesty."

"So I am still Fr-"

"You are the king of some small country," Mary said. "I will play the role of a lowly handmaiden and you will be the heated king who can't resist what I have to offer."

"How inventive," Francis teased her. "Before we do whatever Kenna told you to..." He waved his hand. "I have this letter."

Mary rolled her eyes. "We will deal with that later, Francis. Now hurry up and come over to me."

He placed the letter down on the desk and made his way over to her, leaning against the bedpost. He wanted to laugh, but from his wife's face, he knew he had to take this seriously.

"So, when did your employment begin Ma-I mean _Helena_?" He asked.

Mary batted her eyelashes. "This morning, Your Majesty. Your bedchamber is very... big."

"Is it?"

"Is that the only big thing you have in this bedchamber?" She asked, walking past him and pacing the room slowly.

He followed. "Wouldn't you like to know?" He asked coyly.

Mary smirked to herself. "And do you have a wife?"

"No. If I did, she would be as beautiful as you," he replied.

"How sweet," Mary said. "But I have reason to believe you have a queen. I've looked through the trunks and the wardrobes... Women's clothing, Your Majesty... Unless you prefer women's clothing?"

Francis narrowed his eyes but bit back a smile. "That's because it isn't my bedchamber."

"You lied?"

"Well, you assumed," he quipped.

Mary nodded. "Well, if it isn't your bedchamber, do you think the owner would mind if I..." She waltzed up to the bed and laid down, slowly pulling her stockings off and shoes. "Took off my undergarments? It's just too hot for me to bear and I've been on my feet all day. I need a rest. Or something to help me... _relax_."

Francis stood between her legs. "I don't think they would mind because they won't find out from me at least."

Mary raised her eyebrows. "Is that so?"

"It is so," he whispered, lowering his lips onto hers as his hands found her thighs.

She quickly pulled back. "Y-Your Majesty!" She breathed out, quickly rolling over and crawling to the other side. "What are you doing?"

Francis gaped. "I thought-"

"You thought you could have your way with me as your mistress!" Mary cried out, crossing her arms. "I am not that sort of woman, Your Majesty."

"Mary-"

"Her Majesty is not in the castle," Mary snapped. "She will not return until nightfall."

Francis let out a soft chuckle, quickly getting on the bed to join her. "Well, it seems like we have enough time."

"Enough time for what, may I ask?"

She let out a squeal when he pulled her back onto the bed, attacking her with kisses. She tried pushing him off, but soon gave up and pulled his head to hers so she could plant a long kiss on his lips.

"We must be discreet," she said. "If you are to take me as your..." She paused to draw her finger down his cheek. "Lover."

"I am a single man, _Helena_," Francis replied. "Single men do not have lovers or mistresses to my knowledge."

Mary bit her lip, hoping she looked somewhat seductive. She wasn't good at this as her friends were. Roleplay was definitely something she would try and improve to spice up their bedchamber life.

"I've heard that royal men like you abuse your servants and handmaidens," she said, pressing her hands against his chest. "I once heard that Queen Mary's husband's father participated in a tryst with a kitchen girl and made her _queen_."

"I do not do things like that. I am a forward man though," Francis replied, kissing her neck. "And you... are beautiful."

Mary blushed. "Am I? I hope you do not mind, but I may look slightly _bigger_ than I usually am."

"You are expecting a child?" Francis feigned knowledge.

She nodded. "I am," she confirmed, rubbing her bump.

"Well, that is one way of preventing becoming with child. By already being with child," Francis quipped, kissing her slowly. "I'll make this a night you won't forget."

"Oh, take me already Your Majesty!" Mary breathed out, pulling his lips back down to hers.

...

Mary blushed when Kenna gave her knowing looks as she headed to dinner with her friend teasingly making her way over to her side. She knew what her friend would say.

"My favourite lingerie. It had chocolate stains," Kenna stated, smirking. "Care to elaborate?"

Mary rolled her eyes playfully, handing Kenna a small, flat box. "Here."

"What is this?" Kenna asked, surprised before she opened the box.

"I think I'll keep your favourite lingerie."

Kenna giggled, lifting the tiara and fixing it on her head. "You can keep all of my lingerie sets if you keep gifting me consolation presents!"

Mary snorted lightly. "I tried that... _roleplaying_ you spoke of earlier."

Kenna stopped her, quickly looking around to see if they were alone. "Is that why Francis isn't down yet? Did you break him?"

"B-Break him?"

"Normally after Bash and I do roleplay, he's always worn out and asleep before we can get on with our day. Honestly, if he wasn't the King's Deputy, you'd wonder if he had any employment," Kenna said lightly. "I did not know I could have such an effect on a man like him."

"You're kidding, right?" Mary asked. "Have you seen yourself?"

Kenna nodded. "I have, but still."

"If I wasn't a queen, no one would even look my way with you beside me," Mary replied. "Anyway, he had some business to attend to regarding a letter he wanted me to read. He won't be down for dinner."

Kenna smiled knowingly. "Okay. _Business_, I see."

Mary continued walking, a faint blush on her cheeks. "I am telling the truth."

"Oh, I know!" Kenna said. "I also know the effect you have on Francis. I won't be surprised if you find him still asleep after dinner, especially in your state!"

"Kenna!"

"Mary!"

"It's your fault, you know?" Mary said, smiling happily. "Our sex life has never been more exciting!"

Kenna gave her a wink. "Anytime, Mary. Anytime."


	28. A Cold Day With The Queen

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**Guest (1) [chapter 27]: Glad to be back! Ooh, good idea! I hope you enjoy this chapter :)**

* * *

Mary groaned when she felt a hand tug at her arm. Her eyes opened slowly and she rolled over to see her daughters standing there with their teddies in their arms. She jumped when she heard the thunderstorm and she immediately realised why her girls were looking so worried and tired.

"Mama... The storm is scary," Anne said in an effort to whisper so she didn't wake Francis up. It was too late and he sat up, waving the girls over to get on the bed.

"Thank you, Papa," Rose said quietly, crawling over Mary's legs first.

Mary sighed. "Be careful of Mama's stomach," she told them, helping Anne up once Rose was on.

Francis quickly settled the girls, pulling the covers over their frames as they slept in the middle of them. He then presses kisses onto their heads and soon fell back asleep, his arm slung over Rose's middle as Anne curled up into Mary's back.

Mary felt incomplete though and got out of bed, slipping her night shoes on and heading out of the bedchamber. She gave the guards amused smiles, knowing they noticed the two pairs of little feet making their way into their bedchamber. She paid them some coin for the troubles despite knowing they found the situation amusing than troublesome.

Her daughters did have a tendency to sneak out of their rooms.

Finally getting into her son's nursery, she dismissed the governess and took James into her arms, planting a kiss to the boy's head.

"Come on, my sweet. Papa and your sisters are waiting for us," she said softly, making her way back out of the nursery and into her own bedchamber she shared with her husband.

She slipped back into the bed, putting James between his older sisters and Francis slowly opened his eyes, noticing the new warmth in the bed. She gave him a meek smile, and he responded with a wink, sitting up to kiss a babbling James on the head before finally once again, falling back into a deep slumber.

"Mama?" Rose whispered. "Can you read us a story?"

Mary tutted. It was late, but the storm was raging on. The lightning struck and the thunder crackled, making James start to wail. She sat up, bringing her son into her chest as Francis awoke, letting the girls curl into both of his sides.

"Okay," Mary replied. "Here is a story about Fran and Marie, a king and a princess."

Once she settled James down, his wails dying out, she closed her eyes and began to tell them the age-old story she was used to. The story that had been adapted and changed through time, the same story her husband marvellously surprised her with.

When she was halfway through the story, the window burst open and Francis bit back a curse. He slipped out of his daughters' grips and headed over to the window, checking the latch.

"It's broken," he said, closing the window and trying to hold it down.

The window reopened the second he let go to try and find something to hold it down and the cold, wet air hit him. He shivered, closing the window down as it began blowing out the candles.

"We may need to change bedchambers," he told his wife.

Mary winced. "Anne's bedchamber, it is."

Finally settled in a warmer, lighter bedchamber - Anne's - Mary continued on with her story. She left out the overly emotional bits, not wanting her daughters to be scarred by romance too much and increased the happy parts.

"Mama, will I find a king who will love me like Papa loves you?" Anne asked her mother.

Mary smiled. "Anne, you will find a man or a boy who will adore you and treat you better. You and your sister will find loves who are better than your father and you know what? Your father is not perfect, but he is almost close to it so-"

"Whoever we find will be perfect?" Rose asked, eyes wide.

Francis chuckled. "Yes, a thousand times more perfect."

"And your love story will be better than ours," Mary said, meeting her husband's warm eyes. "In many ways." They didn't need to know about the prophecy drama and their uncle in the mix of things.

"Goodnight, Mama and Papa. Thank you for a wonderful story!" Rose told them.

"I wanted to say that!" Anne told her, glaring at her.

"Girls..." Francis warned. "You will wake your brother up and you both can say 'goodnight' and 'thank you'." He eyed Anne.

Anne nodded meekly. "Thank you and goodnight..."

"Now close your eyes and sleep."

When they were sure that all three children were in deep slumbers, Mary reached her hand across them which Francis quickly held. She squeezed his hand and he squeezed hers back.

"I love you," she whispered.

"I love you, too," Francis whispered back.

Then they too fell asleep.

...

"Ahhhh-tchoo!"

Mary jolted awake and so did her three children, all turning to their left to see Francis dig his face into his pillow. Rose was the first one to cuddle up to him, his hand on her head.

"Papa, are you sick?" Anne asked fearfully.

Francis groaned. "Of course, not my-atchoo!"

Mary quickly got out of bed, heading to the other side to pull her husband onto his back. She checked his head and spotted how red his nose and cheeks now were.

"It must have been coming on for a few days. The weather has been off and on and with the storm last night..." She trailed off, feeling that he had a fever. "Oh, my love."

"I'm fine," Francis said groggily. "If I can just get out of bed and walk it off... Bash and I have matters to..." His face paused and his eyes closed before, "Atchoo!"

"No!" Mary cried out. "You are staying in bed and that is final! I will let Bash know that you are indisposed."

Francis writhed in the bed, Anne quickly squealing and jumping off. He could tell that one daughter didn't mind the risk of becoming ill from what he had. But then he couldn't be selfish.

"Take the children out. They are susceptible," he told his wife.

Mary gasped and nodded, lifting James into her arms before pulling Rose off her father. "Come along, children. I will see if Auntie Kenna is awake so you can spend time with her, Ana and Robin."

She hurried the girls off in front of her, disregarding that she was in her nightdress. But she was a queen and no help will talk about her lack of appropriate clothing for the day.

Mary found Kenna, Bash and their children in the conservatory with the Duke watching over them proudly. His eyes met her worried ones and he stood up, taking James into his arms.

"M-Mary, what is it?" Robert asked.

Mary breathed heavily. "Francis is unwell. He's come down with the cold," she explained, watching Bash stand up. "I had to get the children out of there before they could catch it."

"Oh, dear," Kenna said. "We will look after the children, do not worry."

Mary gave her a grateful nod, turning to Bash. "You will have to attend to these matters alone. If you need help, I am sure my uncle can provide it."

"Of course," Bash replied. "Wish my brother well for me. I will check on him later."

Mary nodded and left, heading back upstairs into Anne's bedchamber. She found her husband fast asleep and smiled at how childlike and peaceful he looked. That was until he coughed, letting out a huge pile of disgusting phlegm in his hand and her nose upturned.

"Do you... Do you still love me when I'm like this?" Francis asked, laughing. His voice was thick with what was presumed to be phlegm and God knew what and Mary stopped herself from crinkling her nose.

"Yes, surprisingly," she replied teasingly. "As much as I'd love to care for you-"

"The baby," Francis finished for her, understanding about her apprehension. "Come for me when I am less contagious."

Mary sighed sadly, taking one last look at him before calling for the doctor and nurse. She really wanted to stay but she couldn't risk their unborn child's life. If Catherine were here, she would have locked Mary in confinement until everyone was sure that the illness was killed and stopped.

Small mercies that Catherine left before they arrived from Linlithgow Palace.

"You know what?" She asked, grabbing a scarf to cover her face. "I will stay."

"Thank you, but I believe you should get me a doctor first," her husband said, chuckling.

"Oh, yes!"

...

"Oh, God... Mary, that feels so _good_."

Mary pressed deeper into the bottom of his foot, massaging it and rubbing it with oils. She smiled beneath the scarf at her husband's pleasure at being massaged.

"How about if I do..." She pressed even deeper, using her left hand to collect some more essential oil before rubbing it in. "This?"

Francis rolled his head back, covering his eyes to shield the light away. "Even better. I can feel the oil relieving my blocked nose."

Mary chuckled at his reaction. "I will get you more lavender water to breathe in with some eucalyptus flower."

"And can you get me something for my throat?" Francis all but whined.

Mary smirked. "Yes, you big baby."

"I resent that."

"I spoke to Kenna about this," Mary said.

"Of course, you did," Francis muttered lightly. "Well, what did she say?"

Mary grinned. "She said that she was glad Bash has a strong immune system He's never fallen ill!"

"That's a lie."

"Oh?"

Francis opened his eyes to look at her. "I was seven and he was ten. He was the biggest baby of them all, moaning and whinging. He snapped at me a few times and got in trouble, but then Father bought him a horse and suddenly, he was _all_ better. He was definitely Henry's favourite."

Mary let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head. "What about you?"

"I've got a strong heart in me. I'm always well," Francis said to her. "Except for the time I had that chest infection. My mother fretted for weeks until it was gone."

"My darling big baby," Mary teased him, kissing his toes.

He wriggled them in reply. "That tickles."

"Does it now?"

"Mary!"

"Okay, I'll stop," she said, giggling before placing a kiss on his pinky toe.

"Mary!" Her husband cried out, letting out chesty laughter.

Mary gasped. "I shouldn't do that, I'm sorry! You'll cough to death or something."

"Exactly!" Was his defiant reply, his laughter dying down. "You're too good for me, Mary..."

Mary blushed, washing her hands in the water bowl. "I doubt that. You do so much for me and I barely can look after you when you become sick."

"Don't be silly, wife. You are enough for me," Francis told her. "Can I have that lavender water now?"

The queen nodded and stood up, heading to the dining table. She collected the bowl and a few more cloth to dab at his head. By the time she reached the bed, she could hear soft snores coming from her husband as he slept.

Smiling fondly, she rubbed his head and brushed his locks away from his eyes before pulling the covers to his waist. She would have pulled them further up, but he would be too hot and then the process of his fever would begin.

Just in case, she left the water on the nightstand, placed a few more blankets on the bed and put a chamber pot on the ground. She never knew if he'd vomit or not as their daughter did when she was ill.

"I love you, Francis," she whispered, pressing two fingers to her covered lips and waving it his way.

Francis changed his position on the bed, tiredly replying, "I love you too, Mary..."


	29. A Warm Night With The Queen

**Recently moved into my new house share at uni and immediately crashed asleep because I didn't sleep for twenty-four hours due to packing last minute things. I know, I'm lazy but I've not forgotten about this story! Enjoy :)**

**Replies to reviews:**

**Guest (1) [chapter 28]: He is! And thank you :)**

**Guest (2) [chapter 28]: I will never stop this fic! I need my Frary goodness too haha. Thanks so much! :)**

**Guest (3) [chapter 28]: I know! They ruined such potential. IMO they should have at least kept him alive longer, given her a child by him and it would be way better. Season 3 and 4 were disappointing for me because both Frary and Kennash were over and it broke my heart. So much I refused to watch it and sobbed like a baby.**

**BlerBlerBler [chapter 28]: There will be more coming up soon ;)**

**Guest (4) [chapter 28]: I love the sister relationship between the girls! There will be more arguments coming up soon! :)**

**Guest (5) [chapter 28]: Anne is Francis's favourite because of the prophecy Nostradamus told Mary. He's linked to her in a way because the visions were of a James and an Anne. In a way, it came true but Rose is in the picture. Mary's favourite is Rose because she is timid and isn't as defiant and overconfident like her older sister is. Also, Anne tends to pick on Rose a bit so Mary will be slightly strict towards Anne than Rose. :)**

**Guest (6) [chapter 28]: Here is the next chapter! Enjoy :)**

* * *

Francis's eyes fluttered open. It had been days and he was definitely feeling a lot better than he did when he kicked his family out of the bed. Poor Anne had resorted to sleeping beside Rose, not that the girls minded with their secret gatherings with Robin and John during the night with books and candles lit by the guards watching over them.

He yawned, turning to the window to see that it was nighttime. Everyone must have been asleep and now that he was feeling better, he felt lonely. He couldn't wake Mary up, she was pregnant.

His lips pursed in thought and he got out of the bed, refreshing himself in the bath before getting dressed into clean clothes and heading out of Anne's bedchamber. He gave the guards a knowing nod and smirk, hearing the not-so-quiet whispers of the children as they giggled about something.

Grinning, Francis went to the bedchamber he shared with his wife and retrieved his paper pad and pencils. He looked over to his sleeping wife and went to press a kiss on her head.

Mary's eyes opened slowly and a smile graced her lips. "You're walking."

"I am," Francis said, almost laughing. "I feel better. But you sleep, wife. I'll see you in the morning."

Mary nodded, puckering her lips so he could kiss her. When he was sure that she was fast asleep again, he grabbed his items and left the bedchamber, heading to Rose's.

He found the four children huddled over a book and he towered over them curiously. They started giggling, their whispers very loud in his ears as they spoke about a certain nature book.

"I wonder what it means!" Anne whispered. "I can't believe your mama had it in your parents' bedchamber!"

Robin quickly nodded. "She always hides it, but I sometimes see Papa read it when he's having his afternoon glass."

Francis's eyes widened and he swiped the book from the floor, four pairs of eyes looking up to stare at him in shock, guilt and slight happiness.

Anne was the first to recover as she said, "Papa! You're better now!"

"I most certainly am," Francis said, closing the book shut. "Where did you find this book?"

Robin's ears turned red. "In my mama's pillow."

"Dear God," Francis muttered. "Uh, who wants to draw instead? Yes, drawing seems very wise since you are hellbent on not sleeping like the rest of the castle is."

The children dutifully nodded, each grabbing items of paper and pens to draw. It gave Francis time to head outside towards Kenna and Bash's bedchamber. He felt awkward and embarrassed, coming to them at this hour with their book which they assumed remained under the pillow.

He knocked twice and the door was quickly opened. His eyes met Bash's and he cleared his throat.

"The children somehow got their hands on this," he said, handing over the book. He didn't want his nephew to get into trouble.

Bash frowned, eyeing the book. He took it, opened it and gasped. "H-How? W-We assumed that a servant picked it up as she changed the sheets-"

"What is it?" Kenna asked from inside, coming over to stand by her husband. Her eyes landed on the book and she gasped. "Don't tell me-"

"They were curious, alright," Francis said, blushing. "Small mercies that they didn't ask questions."

Kenna grabbed the book and flung it into an opened trunk. She shut it, locked it and sighed in relief, sitting on it after.

"Do you know how far they got to?" Bash asked.

"No. I didn't want to either," Francis told him. "What were you doing? You both don't seem as tired as I thought you'd be."

Bash grinned. "I was teaching her how to play cards. There is some wine involved, but everything is strictly innocent."

Francis smiled coyly. "Of course, it is," he said, tapping his nose. "Well, enjoy your _cards_."

He turned back around, hearing the door shut behind him. He let out a laugh and went back to Rose's bedchamber, seeing the children quietly drawing.

He sat on the bed and started to sketch them. Nights like these made him thank God for his children. Children were amazing in his eyes and he would never tire of them. He was glad that he was expecting his fifth child, he wanted hundreds if possible, the sound of feet pattering the grounds and laughter and joy spreading around.

"Are you drawing us, Papa?" Rose asked him, coming to sit beside him and look over his shoulder. "You're really good."

"Am I?" Francis asked, turning to smile at her. "Thank you, Rosie."

She gave him a bright smile and hopped back off the bed, her blonde hair flying behind her as she ran to John's side to see what he was doing. Francis would admit, he played favourites.

Anne was their intended child so he did pay her a little more attention than he paid her siblings. He adored James, his son and heir and he loved Rose, but Anne was his little Anne.

His eyes landed on Anne and she gave him a smile before returning to her picture. It almost made him cry, how she'd grown up. Six years of being her father made him so happy, he remembered when she came.

When she was in her mother's tummy, Mary couldn't get enough of duck feathered pillows, pomegranates, plums and strawberries too. Now, all of those fruits were Anne's absolute favourites.

Ah, Francis loved his Button who loved her midnight feeds. It was a name they'd left behind years back, preferring Annie as she grew into her own. But her nose did sort of look button-ish. He chuckled to himself, making the children turn to him in confusion.

"Are you alright, Papa?" John asked him.

"Yes, do you need to return to bed, Papa?" Anne asked as well. "Let me feel your head-"

Francis shook his head, his smile widening on his face. "I'm fine, my children. Keep doing what you're doing."

Diplomatic, greedy Button and surely enough, the girl could start a war and end it within seconds today. He loved her and he loved her siblings too. They were his perfect heirs. She belonged to France foremost, but she will always be Scotland's first princess.

He got up and left the bedchamber, returning to the one where his wife slept. When he arrived, he was shocked to see that the bed was empty. Rushing out, he asked the guards where she went.

"The lake, Your Grace," one said. "A few of us went with her."

"Why the lake?" Francis remarked.

The guard smiled. "Something about Scottish free spirts, Your Grace."

"Yes," another one piped up, much younger. "Many pregnant women go for midnight swims."

That gave Francis an idea as he looked down at his paper and pens. He gave the guards some coin and headed out. A horse was readied quickly and he made it to the lake, a few guards with their backs turned away from a naked Mary as she ran water through her long locks.

Francis was stunned, almost tripping himself as he dismounted from the horse. He composed himself, gave the guards a nod and walked up to the edge of the lake.

"Mary!"

Mary looked up and smiled at him. "Hello, Francis! Join me, the water is surprisingly warm!"

Francis shook his head. "You know what? Stay right there, my love. Let me draw you."

Mary blushed under the moonlight and nodded, giving him a pose. To her husband, she looked like a beautiful sea creature, her hair curled and dripping wet, her hands covering her bust and the other on her growing bump.

"Beautiful," Francis breathed out, his blue eyes transfixed on her. "Just stunning."

So he spent the rest of his night drawing his wife now that he felt better.


	30. A Familiar Face For The Queen

**Had a busy week, sorry! Went out every day and hung out with some people. Anyway, here's another chapter!**

**Replies to reviews:**

**elder441 [chapter 29]: Thank you :)**

**Guest (1) [chapter 29]: Francis really should ;) I am working on one with Mary and Rose. We have way too many Mary and James, our little Rose needs some loving.**

**Guest (2) [chapter 29]: Rose senses which parent likes which daughter. She's not one for jealousy, but she does seek approval from her father and notice things about him than Anne does. Anne does whatever she wants mostly because she's the apple of Francis's eye, but around Mary, she's calmer and more behaved. Rose seems to like Francis more than Mary, but she looks up to her mother and we will get a scene from this with Rose and Mary.**

** Guest (3) [chapter 29]: ;)**

**** Guest (4) [chapter 29]: Here it is! :)****

* * *

Francis pulled Mary close to his chest, pressing a kiss onto her exposed back. He grinned when she let out a giggle, squirming under his touch as his hand found her hip and tickled it.

"Francis...! I'm trying to sleep!" Mary cried out, snorts mixing with her laughter. "I know you're nice and rested after your cold, but I still have to sleep."

"It's not me who went midnight swimming in the lake," he retorted, kissing her neck. "Please, Mary..."

Mary playfully rolled her eyes and turned around to face him. She then shifted so she laid on top of him, making sure she wasn't pressing against him hard with her bump.

"Are you really that desperate for human contact?" She teased him, kissing him softly. "I do admit, I missed you by my side."

"You seemed to be getting on well by yourself," he said, smiling.

"Well, our child helped keep me company," she replied. "About me swimming the lake..."

"It must be a thing women do when they're with child," Francis said. "It's strange, but I was deeply aroused."

Mary raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yes," Francis whispered, looking up into her eyes.

"Of course you would be," Mary said, laughing. "But we do need to sleep now. We can continue this at another time."

Francis groaned as she rolled back onto her side. She was right, she needed the sleep and he wasn't very willing to have an emotional pregnant wife all day long for lack of sleep.

"Goodnight, Mary."

"Goodnight, Francis," Mary mumbled, falling asleep.

...

"Mary?"

Mary moaned, her eyes slowly opening. "What is it?"

Francis gently rubbed her shoulder to waken her. "We have some guests."

"Guests?"

"Yes," Francis said. "One of them has an itinerary for your week."

"Good Lord," Mary muttered, closing her eyes. "Give me time to get ready."

When she was finished, she headed downstairs and walked towards the conversation in the drawing-room. Cautiously, she entered and her eyes widened at the sight of Greer and Aloysius Castleroy.

"G-Greer?"

Greer turned away from Lola and Kenna, giving Mary a wide smile. "Mary, it's been too long."

Mary's eyes watered and at that moment, she wasn't a queen, she was a girl who had all of her friends by her side. She rushed to Greer and hugged her tightly, both women's tears wetting each other's cheeks.

"My God, it's really you," Mary breathed out, brushing Greer's hair from her eyes. The hair was darker, brunette now and she seemed more aged than the rest of them. Mary guessed that it was a life living in secrecy.

"T-The children, they've grown so much," Greer said. "We can't stay long, but seeing as it's your birthday soon..." Greer turned to face her husband. "We decided that it was worth the risk for me to see you one last time."

"O-One last time?" Lola asked, getting up with Kenna in confusion.

Greer nodded. "It's not safe for us, in Scotland any longer. We are catching the first ship to Sweden."

"I can protect you-"

"Mary, we appreciate that," Greer said. "But it's too dangerous. We can't have you or Francis targeted for protecting us."

Mary's face fell and she shakily nodded. "Fine. Francis said you had a week planned out for me?"

"I do. And it starts where it all began."

...

The lavender field by the small town nearby.

Mary picked up a piece of lavender and sniffed it, rubbing the tips between her fingers before rubbing it on her neck. She turned around and gave Greer a bright smile, watching as her friend collected some and put them in her bag.

"Lavender and apple compote," Greer explained. "Remember having them as girls?"

"I do," Mary said, laying down on her back with her hands on her bump. "Join me?"

Greer nodded and laid down with Lola and Kenna following. They laid there in a circle, staring at the clouds above, now and then pointing one out that looked a particular shape or animal.

Time seemed to slow down and rewind and Mary definitely felt like a little girl again. Tears sprung to her eyes and she looked over at Greer.

"Is it really the end?"

Greer frowned. "I hope not. We will write as much as possible and we'll always be friends."

Mary's lips wavered. "Our flying squad is truly gone."

Kenna groaned. "Don't like us to Catherine's whorish friends."

"Excuse me?" Her friends called out knowingly.

"I will have you know, I am fully committed to my husband thank you very much," Kenna said, giggling. "But yes, our friendship may be dwindling, but it will never be over."

"When we did this last," Lola began quietly. "We had no children. No husbands. Mere titles, except Mary's and maybe not for Greer... We had no strings attached. Mostly."

Greer nodded. "Twenty years does that."

"I feel so stupid," Kenna said, covering her face. "My childish dreams of marrying a man with a title and wealth and land..."

"You do have that," Mary told her.

"Eventually," Kenna replied. "But I shouldn't have wanted that. I should have been content with having a man who treated me well. Who loved me and cared for me and made me want for nothing... Bash may not have been what I was looking for in the beginning, but he is what I will always want forevermore."

Mary grinned. "Look at that, Kenna's fallen in love!"

"Oh, do be quiet. What about you, Your Majesty of two and hopefully three countries?"

Mary chuckled softly. "I am scared of that. Relations are increasing between Scotland and England. I have started to make moves to speak with Elizabeth. She had no heir and I am on my fourth one. I hope the fact that we are cousins will make her have mercy on herself."

"Queens are defiant," Lola told her. "It's a hard decision, but we are all here for you."

"Even from afar," Greer said lightly. "But I can't believe it's your fourth child. I have missed so much."

She took a shaky breath, wiping tears from her cheeks as she turned to Mary as well. She offered her a hand and Mary took it, holding Kenna's hand as well.

"Lola?" Kenna called out softly, reaching a hand to her.

Lola took it and also took Greer's other hand. "A wish?"

"Why not?" Mary said. "For old time's sake."

They closed their eyes and silently made a wish. They didn't even know what to wish for, except a life that will always be happy and fruitful.

"I love you all," Mary whispered.

"We love you too," Kenna mumbled. "The last time we were together like this, I was leaving."

Greer nodded, smiling wryly. "And I had no idea whether I was going to be a madam or a convict's wife for life."

"And I had no idea if I was going to find love and be the mother John needed," Lola said.

Mary blinked, her tears falling. "And I had no idea if I could be the mother my unborn child needed. She's six now, Good Lord! She's alive and well and so are we... Well, we who survived. I miss Aylee."

"We all miss her," Greer said gently. "Whatever happens, we must promise that we will never forget each other."

"That's easy," Kenna replied. "You all are practically my sisters. I can never forget you nor will I stop telling my children about the mischief their aunts and I got up to, as little girls..." She trailed off. "Well, I will leave out the parts inappropriate for young ears, of course."

They burst into laughter, Mary saying, "Like their mother's promiscuity?"

"Do you think my son would like to hear that his parents had many lovers before they got together and well, _after_...?" Kenna squeaked out. "Or the fact that they were forced to be wed in the first place?"

"I wish we could erase some parts of our lives," Mary said, sighing wistfully.

Lola nodded. "I love John, but I hate how he came to be... I wish I could have stopped myself from being with Francis."

Mary tensed up, but then she relaxed. She had nothing to worry about. "It's in the past."

"It shouldn't even exist in the first place," Lola mumbled.

Greer cleared her throat. "I wish I could have stopped Aloysius from unknowingly getting us into a life of hiding in the shadows. I would love to stay wherever you all are and raise our children together."

"Preach," Mary muttered.

"I wish that I fought harder for my marriage," Kenna whispered sadly. "Perhaps it wouldn't have led to us separating again and having a miscarriage of the other man's child to get back together. And Delphine... don't get me started. All her talk about having Bash's children and their future together, urgh-"

"Ahem."

Kenna blushed. "Well, look who has his children now? And it's _my_ bed he comes to, not hers."

Mary burst into laughter, wrapping her arms around her waist as Lola and Greer joined in, making Kenna blush even more.

"I don't think you'll ever not be jealous," Lola stated. "If one woman looks at Bash in any way, you'll be over there to drag her head through the mud!"

"Can you blame me?" Kenna muttered, embarrassed. "Oh, I also wish I pursued him and not Henry in the beginning. There are so many things about Bash that I can't live without and-"

"We'll save your sex life for another time," Greer said, giggling. "It was worse enough hearing about Henry! Now we have to sit through a whole production on his son?"

"Fine..."

Mary closed her eyes. "I wish that I didn't listen to the stupid prophecy in the beginning. Francis and I would be happy from day one and apparently, Kenna would be taking Bash's attention elsewhere..." She giggled with Kenna. "And then when we got to my rape... Condé would have never been in the picture and I would let Francis in."

"Well, that is all in the past and we are happy, aren't we?" Greer asked. "I am with a man I love, raising our children. Mary, you and Francis are expecting your fourth bundle of happiness. Kenna, you and Bash's sex life is still going strong..." She snorted as they all giggled. "And Lola, you have John. We're happy."

"But if we could turn back time..." Lola trailed off. "I would do things differently."

"But we can't," Mary said. "And that is fine. I have no regrets."

"Lucky for some," Kenna muttered lightly.

"Oh! That's a carrot!" Greer cried out, pointing to the cloud.

And they laid there for hours on end, even after the sky darkened and the stars came out to play. Yes, they were little girls, with no dreams but dreams of happiness and content.


	31. A Worried Queen

**Replies to reviews:**

**elder441 [chapter 30]: Thanks so much and I agree!**

**BlerBlerBler [chapter 30]: Yeah, hate it but I won't even dwell on the horrible idea about that. Yeah, there will be more moments like those to come!**

**Guest (1) [chapter 30]: Here's the next chapter!**

**Mostly this is a happy story, but with the calm, comes the storm.**

* * *

Mary opened her eyes, realising that they had all fallen asleep on the ground. She smiled to herself, sitting up with a bit of difficulty. She rubbed her bump and yawned, noting that the sky was getting darker.

She woke her friends up and they got up, heading back to their carriage. She gave the driver a wide smile, accepting his help in getting inside the carriage.

Soon, they were on their way back to the castle.

"Today was amazing," Mary told her friends. "I can't wait for tomorrow's plans."

"The winery is lovely in this season," Kenna said. "We can try our hand at making our own. If it's undrinkable, I'm sure our husbands and father will gladly stomach it for us."

They laughed, accepting the plans.

"After, we can plan the christening for the new baby," Greer said. "If I won't be able to meet them, at least I can help in some way."

"That would be wonderful, thank you, Greer," Mary replied.

The queen looked out of the window, feeling an unsettling feeling in her stomach. The roads were busy and as the neared the castle, it seemed as if the guards had doubled or even tripled in size, all frantic and some on horseback.

"What is going on?" Kenna asked fearfully, getting out of the carriage first when it came to a stop just before the gates. She went over to a guard as her friends followed. "What is happening? Is it my father?"

"The Duke is well," the guard said. "Two of the children have been taken."

"Taken?" Mary asked, shoving through to get to the guard. "W-Who-"

"Princess Rose, Your Grace. Princess Rose and the Earl of Avon."

Mary's legs gave over and Kenna, Greer and Lola were quick to catch her, the fear in both mothers' eyes evident. Mary didn't know how to feel, but her heart was quickening and she felt as if her world was closing in.

"My daughter, who has taken my daughter?!"

...

"Mary, please, sit down," Francis begged, getting up to stop her pacing. "I am sick with worry too, but we have many guards on the matter. Bash is out there looking for our children."

"How long have they been missing for?"

Francis swallowed deeply. "A short while after you left. The governesses took them out for a swim and Rose and Robin went off alone as they returned to the castle and before they could notice, it was too late. These abductors, they were skilled. They were silent and we're questioning the guards that went with them - they were put down, some didn't survive."

Mary shook, sinking down into a chaise. "Rose... It's all my fault. When she was born, I was upset because... because she wasn't a son, but I adore her. She's so special, our Rosie and now she's gone and we might never see her again."

"Don't think that!" Francis cried out. "She's our daughter, she's a natural-born fighter."

Mary sobbed. "If I hadn't had left, if I'd stayed-"

"The children would still have wanted to go to the lake and we would still be in this position," Francis cut her off. "I promise you, they'll find our children. We will have them home."

In the next room, Kenna held her daughter close to her chest, whispering sweet nothings as tears slipped down her cheeks. She watched as Anne and John nervously played with Anne's dolls on the ground, feeling her friends' gazes on her.

"They will find them," Greer told her, holding James in her arms. "Rose and Robert will come home."

Kenna looked away from the children, turning to the door when it opened. "Francis has there been any word?"

"No," he said apologetically. "Mary... I've sent her to our bedchamber to rest. She is in no fit state and it is not good for the baby."

"What can I do?" Lola asked, getting up. "Is there anything-"

"Remain with the children. At this point, the people in this room are who I trust with my children's lives," he said, crossing his arms. "We... All we can do is wait."

Kenna scoffed. "Wait?" She repeated, getting up and giving her daughter to Lola who sat back down. "Wait for what?"

"A sign, a trail-"

"What if they've spilt their blood already?" Kenna asked him. "You and I both know that France has _a lot_ of enemies, Francis. You and Bash most especially and if your children die... it will be on your hands."

Francis froze. "Kenna-"

"Just find them, Francis," she whispered, leaving the room.

Francis followed after but instead of going the same direction, he went the other way in the search for the Duke of the castle.

He felt like his world had been ripped apart. His precious Rose, his second daughter and third child. She had been so perfect when she was born, his blonde curls and her mother's beautiful eyes. A perfect mix, even more so than Anne.

His precious Rose who wanted for nothing. Timid and shy, but resilient and clever. He ached to see her again, to hold her against his chest and kiss her head repeatedly.

Francis stopped, hearing a guard call his name. "What is it?"

"A ransom note, Your Majesty..." The guard trailed off, handing him the letter.

Francis frowned at his hesitance and he opened up the letter and saw a lock of bloodied brown hair attached at the bottom. His heart sank. "Any leads?"

"Not yet," the guard said. "It was found nailed to a tree near the opening of the woods."

"Ready my horse," Francis ordered, heading towards the exit.

"Your Majesty, that is not wise-"

"Two children are missing and now, we have a ransom note with my nephew's hair on it," Francis said, stopping. "I will find them."

...

Mary studied the note. "They ask not for money, but for me to give up my claim to England?"

"It seems that way," Francis said. "Unless that is hiding the real reason as to why the children were taken."

Mary frowned deeply. "What I don't understand is Rose is not our heir. She's no spare either, but she isn't James or even Anne."

"Maybe it was a case of mistaken identity," Francis said. "Rose does take after me in looks and James, well, he was in the governess's arms throughout and he was dressed in a way he could have been mistaken for a girl."

"Do you think Catherine is behind it?"

"My mother-"

"She told me herself she was making moves to put England in our hands. If this is their way of retaliation against her actions... I will need to see Elizabeth personally," Mary told him. "Beg for my child's life and give up England."

Francis sighed heavily. "We knew the risks. Elizabeth must have felt threatened with our prolonged stay in Scotland... Mary, we need to tell Bash and Kenna-"

"No, hide the hair. Our children are safe. They have nothing if they're dead-"

"They have something if they are with them anyway," Francis cut her off. "Dead or alive, we want our children and they will prey on that fact."

"Have you no hope?"

Francis closed his eyes. "I do have hope. So much hope that I will lead the next search now."

...

Bash knelt down, placing two fingers on a sticky substance that plagued the ground below. He lifted his fingers up, feeling the texture and seeing the colour.

Blood.

Whose, he didn't-

"My lord, over here!"

He got up, walking over to the guard. "What is it?"

The guard directed him towards a hedge leading to the river stream. He saw other guards tending to a wounded man, clutching at his stab wound.

"They're questioning him," the guard explained.

Bash nodded. "I'll do the questioning myself."

He jumped down the hedge, landing on the ground below before gesturing for the guards to leave except the one keeping the man alive for now.

"Speak," he demanded. "Who did this to you?"

"T-The boy," the man spat out. "Had a little knife on him. Said his father would kill us if he and the girl didn't return."

Bash felt a bit of relief. He hadn't told his wife, but he had been training their son somewhat. It wasn't his fault that Robin took great interest in what it meant to be a fighter. Pride swelled in his chest.

"Which way did your men take him?" Bash asked.

"I won't tell you."

"Who do you work for?"

"I'm already dying," the man said. "But you should have the ransom by now."

Bash looked up at a guard. "Ransom?"

"It would have been taken to the castle," the guard said. He looked up when they heard the sound of horses. "It's the Duke and Marquess of Barton."

"Alright," Bash said. "Kill him."

He stood up and headed back up the hedge to meet his father-in-law and brother-in-law as he heard a grunt behind him.

"What did you learn?" Robert asked, getting down from his horse.

"There's a ransom," Bash told them. "Did you know?"

"No," his brother-in-law said. "We left after you."

Bash sighed heavily. "My son, he wounded the man greatly. I fear that may have repercussions."

"Do not lose hope, Sebastian," Robert told him. "That boy is a fighter and he will protect himself and his cousin fiercely."

"We must move on," Kenna's brother said. "Time is of the essence, ransom or not."


	32. A Plea From The Queen

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****Guest (3) [chapter 31]: The first bit is just for you ;) We'll have more of them coming up.****

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_'08th August. The children have been missing for over two weeks now. Today it is Robin's sixth birthday, and Kenna and Bash are taking it hard. It pains us all, but hopefully, my pleas on Elizabeth's ear would be fruitful in bringing Marie Anne and Robert Francis home. I miss them terribly and...'_

Tears spotted the ink on Mary's diary, her hands shakily wiping them away from her cheeks. She couldn't believe how long they hadn't seen the children, Bash leaving for hours on end but coming up unsuccessful.

They could be anywhere by now. France, England, Ireland... God knew where the two little children were.

"Your Majesty?" A guard called out to her. "We've arrived."

Mary put her pen and diary away, turning to give her cousin a look of uncertainty. She felt the Marquess's hand on her shoulder, his squeeze and faint kiss on her cheek.

"Everything will be fine. Elizabeth can't hurt you, I swear it. We will find Anne and my nephew and we'll bring them home," the Marquess told her, getting out of the carriage first.

Mary took her time, fixing her face with a little rouge and accepting the Marquess's hand to get down the steps. Every male had wanted to go with her, but Robert had fallen ill with worry, Bash was always out searching, Francis couldn't keep his temper at bay from his premature grief so Mary had chosen Kenna's brother.

The Marquess Robert of Barton was a kind, quiet and reserved man. He too was a father, a husband and he would do anything for his sister and his cousin, the Queen of Scots and France. His patience and confidence were exactly what Mary needed if she were to handle negotiations with Elizabeth.

They were searched. Robert's swords and daggers were taken away from him as Mary's jewellery was taken off until they left. Elizabeth wasn't taking any chances with the grieving mother.

"Elizabeth," Mary greeted her the second they stood before the woman who sat on her throne.

Elizabeth's eyes shone with something Mary couldn't muster as she said, "Mary, dear, you look ill."

Mary bit back a scowl. "Elizabeth, I am here to personally renounce England. I never wanted it."

"Oh, I know. You were a pawn on the board. A puppet controlled," Elizabeth told her, feigning sympathy. "I heard about your daughter's and nephew's disappearance."

"Please, return them home safely," Mary said softly. "They are mere children, innocent children, they have done no wrong."

"Mary, I only found out when you wrote of your visit," Elizabeth said honestly. "I pray that you find them because I know how it feels for a child to be torn apart from their mother... I too was taken from my own, I do hope that you find them alive."

Mary got to her knees. "Take me instead-"

"Your Majesty-" The Marquess tried.

"Take me as your prisoner and bring the children back to Castle Barton," Mary said.

Elizabeth stood up and walked down the stairs. She reached Mary, the younger woman looking up without any fear in her eyes. Elizabeth searched them before she offered Mary a hand.

"Stand," she ordered.

Mary stood.

Elizabeth placed her hands on Mary's shoulders and dusted them off. "A queen does not beg," she said softly, her eyes falling. "I know of Catherine de Medici's role in obtaining England from me, but we will never put children in the middle of that."

"How do I know that it isn't you?"

"Your husband has enemies, his brother has enemies," Elizabeth said as if it was a known fact. "The enemy of my enemy-"

"Is your friend," Mary whispered. "Do you know-"

"That _friend_ is no longer a friend. He went against my wishes. We play dirty, but we _never_ bring children into it," Elizabeth cut her off. "Look closer to home is all I can offer. I do not give up people, it isn't who I am." Elizabeth turned to her guards. "Make sure they reach Scotland safely. If anyone tries anything, I'll have their heads."

Mary took Elizabeth's hands. "Thank you. I wish we can rule together in peaceful harmony. I do not want to start a war, you are my _family_."

Elizabeth cupped Mary's cheek tenderly. "Find them and never let them go. Children, they're are a blessing in one's life and maybe one day, we'll know each other better."

Mary nodded. "Goodbye, Elizabeth. Thank you."

...

Kenna shakily placed a stuffed teddy onto Robin's pillow, her eyes watering with unshed tears. "Your father will find you, I swear it. You'll be in our arms soon enough and-"

"Kenna?"

Kenna sniffled, turning to face Francis. "Has Bash returned?"

"No," he whispered sadly. "I know what today is."

"Six years," Kenna shakily said. "He was early when he was born since then, he's never been late. My little boy is punctual, even when it comes to his bedtime."

Francis folded his hands behind his back. "When they come home, he'll have the biggest party in the world. He will be cherished. Our children, they are strong and they will find their way home."

"I didn't mean to blame you or Bash," Kenna said gently. "I was upset and I should never have taken it out on you. It's just... we've all lost a child already, do we need to lose more?"

Francis sighed. He knew what she was talking about - their miscarriages. "And you almost died having him. Bash, he never wanted children until you. A forced marriage, late consummation, _love_. He loves you every day and one of the reasons is because you made him a father. A better father than Henry could ever be to us. I have faith in Robin, he's learnt from the best."

"What if they find out about his visions?" Kenna asked fearfully.

"He's a smart child. He knows what survival is and Kenna, do not lose hope. I have a feeling," Francis told her. "Just hang in there."

He left, leaving Kenna to curl up on her son's bed, inhaling his scent of pinewood and lavender from the baths he took by her hand. Her precious son was coming home, she could feel it.

...

Robin breathed heavily, eyeing Rose's sleeping figure beside him. He looked around, hoping that they wouldn't find them.

"Find them!"

He'd managed to get them to run during the night, promising Rose that their fathers were looking for them. She had started to cry, refusing to believe him but he'd given her a rose flower, kissed her head and continued to pull her on as they ran.

The rose flower was now put onto her ear as she slept.

"Rose?" He whispered, shaking her gently. "They're here, but we need to be quiet!"

Rose woke up and nodded, curling into his side as they hid behind the tree, into the alcove. Robin was sure that it was a den of some sort, perhaps from foxes to his knowledge, he learnt from his father. He was happy that Bash taught him a lot even though his mother was reluctant.

Sensing them coming closer, Rose whimpered, hiding her face deeper into his side. He squeezed her, closing his eyes as he wished for them to pass them by.

But luck wasn't in their favour.

"Found you," the man spat, pulling him by his collar as Rose screamed for him.

Robin kicked the man's knee, falling to the ground and grabbing Rose's hand, the pair of them running again. Their noble clothes had been torn and dirtied and Robin couldn't remember the last time his parents kissed him 'goodnight'.

Robin pressed a hand against the knife in his pocket, glad he was smart enough to grab it as the men slept. He'd used it to cut their binds off, all his training from Bash proving reliable.

"I want my papa and mama," Rose whimpered as she huffed. "I'm tired!"

"So do I," Robin said. "But we can't give up."

"I won't give up," Rose promised him.

Robin gave her a quick comforting but when he turned around he felt something hit him and he fell to the ground, his eyes wide with shock as he screamed, his screams mixing with Rose's.

...

"We're nearing the English border!" Kenna's other older brother announced. "If we pass, we'll be killed on sight."

Bash frowned, pulling his horse to a stop. "I hate to be so careless, but I don't care for borders. Not whilst my son and my niece have been missing for the sixteenth day!"

Lord Douglas looked down from his horse, pointing at something on the ground. "What is that?"

Bash got down from his horse and picked the item up. "It's Rose's," he breathed out. "It's her headpiece that Kenna gifted her."

"They're near," Douglas said. "Are you sure we should keep going?"

Bash nodded firmly. "I've never been surer of anything. They're close. I can feel them, we're getting close. Riders, march on!"

He got back onto his horse and quickly rode towards the border. If they lost men, he didn't care for then, his son and niece were all that was important and all he could think about. Anyone else could mind themselves.

"Carriage!" A soldier called out, all of the horses coming to a stop.

Bash almost fell from his as his horse started to calm down, slowing as he neared the carriage about to enter Scottish lands. He recognised the carriage was surprised to see it.

"Mary?"

Mary got out with the Marquess's help. "Elizabeth said that the person who took them is an enemy of France, of you or Francis."

Bash swallowed deeply. "Is that right?"

"I believe her," Mary said forlornly. "Why are you riding through the border?"

Bash threw Rose's headpiece at Robert who caught it. The Marquess inspected it and showed Mary the jewellery piece.

"It's Rose's," Mary breathed out in shock. "Bash-"

"They're nearby. Go back to Scotland, to Castle Barton. By the end of the week, they will be found. I will not rest, stop or do anything but look for them," Bash told her. "Tell Kenna, I'm bringing our son home."

...

A few days later, Bash had to accept that he needed rest. Robin's birthday had come and went and he felt sick. He'd hoped that the children would be found by then, his son's sixth birthday being uncelebrated but mourned.

"Bash?" Francis called him gently, offering his brother some rabbit meat as they sat by the campfire.

"I'm not hungry."

"Neither am I, but I'd rather not collapse when I have my daughter in my arms," Francis said lightly, offering the meat with a nudge.

Bash took it and bit into the meat, his tastebuds lacklustre. "He probably thinks we do not care about him. My son turned six and we weren't there with him."

"Robin doesn't think that," Francis said. "Didn't you say he wounded that man? Your son is you in strength and survival instincts. He's a strong boy, I have no doubt he will keep my Rose alive and safe."

"Have I ever cried in front of you?" Bash asked curiously. "You cried on me many times, but I... I've never shown you that side of me, my vulnerability."

"Bash-"

"That changes today because I'm scared," Bash whispered, bowing his head as tears fell down his cheeks. "I'm scared that losing Robin would mean losing Kenna and our family would be destroyed forever. She was right, I can't keep fighting all of these battles and now, my son is paying the price."

Francis tutted. "Or my price," he said. "We shouldn't blame our-"

"Kenna told you that our enemies did this. Mary told me that our enemies did this. Francis, do you see what is happening? Our past debts are coming to pay," Bash cut him off once again.

"I relieve you from your duties," Francis said softly.

"I don't want that," Bash told him. "I am one man. I have some power to make people do things for me, just as you do as a king. From now on, if I am not in Avon, I am securely in the castle. I will never leave for a mission outside any gates."

Francis gave his brother a tight hug. "You _are_ getting old."

"Francis!"

"I'm sorry," Francis said, chuckling softly. "I needed the laugh. The hope."

"Same here," Bash mumbled, closing his eyes.


	33. A Relieved Queen

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* * *

Rose turned to Robin, nudging his shoulder gently. "Does it hurt badly?"

"No," Robin lied. "I'm fine. It's not that deep."

Rose nodded, accepting his answer as she tried to get out of her restraints. "Do you think they will find us?"

"I know they will."

"How do you know they will?" Rose asked her cousin, her lips trembling. "It's been _days_, Robin!"

Robin shrugged. "I believe in my papa. He'll find us."

"They've forgotten about us," Rose whined. "Anne is probably getting all of my mama's and papa's attention. She's happy that I'm gone."

"Don't be silly! Of course, Anne isn't happy. She loves you very much," Robin assured her. "We will be found, I promise-"

"What are you two talking about?" One of the men asked, getting up from his seat.

"None of your business," Robin said firmly. His eyes narrowed, daring the man to come closer. "I will take great pleasure when my father drives his sword through your heart."

The man laughed. "You're braver than I thought. Smart, well, noble children are smart for their ages. And who is your father, pray tell?"

Robin smiled. "Duke Sebastian de Poitiers," he announced proudly.

The man's smile flinched a little bit. "Is that right? You are not some other noble's son? A playmate for the King and Queen's heir apparent?"

"I am Robert Francis de Poitiers of France and Scotland. My mother's father is the Duke of Barton, Robert Beaton and both he and my father will find us."

The man sighed heavily, turning to glare at one of his companions. "Would you mind giving us a minute to discuss something?"

"Go ahead. You're wasting time - my father will come for your blood," Robin told them. "I've seen him fight, he _always_ wins."

Rose nudged him, worried. "Stop talking. They will hurt you even-"

She was cut off by the man pulling Robin up without effort. He walked the boy over to a tree a few good metres away from his cousin and pushed him to the ground.

Rose gasped when she saw the man hit Robin in the face, warning him to not talk back as blood ran down her cousin's nose. "Stop it! Don't hurt him!"

"You," the man said, turning to her. "Be quiet. You, we can't touch. But for him, we can." He turned to his men. "We leave for the ship in two hours. Fill your bellies, empty your bladders, we must be on time."

Rose cowered, lowing her head as tears sprung to her eyes. Robin kept telling her to not lose faith and hope, but she couldn't deny that she was losing them. She didn't understand why this was happening. She wanted to go home.

She wanted her mother's warm hug and her father's storytelling voice. She wanted to see her sister's hazel curls and her brother's deep, loving eyes. Rose wanted to be a big sister again, hoping that her mother would have another boy so they could play pirates and princesses. Robin and John would play along and they will be happy.

She started to cry, closing her eyes shut.

"Please, please, please," she chanted quietly. "Please, find us."

...

Francis winced at the smell of seawater. The journey from France to Scotland had been made on a ship and he had been throwing up constantly, the idea of travelling by water sickening and worrying for him.

Alas, the trail led here.

Elizabeth had begrudgingly allowed them safe passage to the southeastern coast, wishing them luck and resources should they need it. Francis strongly declined, he didn't want to be in her debt even if she was his wife's cousin.

"Where are we?" Francis asked.

Lord Douglas looked up. "Sunderland. Fishing docks are here, small boats for the early morning catch. Also involved in the trade of coal and salt."

"It is very plausible that a boat would have been heading for France from here," Marquess Robert added, the man getting down from his horse. "We need to question the fishermen."

Before Francis could give the order, he heard one of their soldiers cry out, falling from his horse. He turned around and saw men on horseback, ready for battle.

"Attack!" He yelled, noting that Bash was already springing to action before he even noticed the men who brought down his soldier.

Just as he was about to drive his sword through one man, his breath left his body at the sight of blonde locks. The girl turned and her blue eyes brightened in recognition, her mouth about to speak before it was covered by a hand.

"Rose!"

"Francis, watch out!" Marquess Robert called out.

Francis ducked in time, hearing the _swish_ of a sword behind him. He turned on his horse and sliced his sword over his assailant's chest, the man falling onto the ground with a heavy thump.

Francis turned back around, seeing his daughter being ridden away from them. He frowned, he couldn't see Robin. Hoping that he would, he followed after his daughter and her kidnapper, forcing his horse to gallop quicker to catch up.

He didn't know how long they rode for, every now and then, the man turning to curse at his impending catch up to them. Francis had to think quickly, retrieving a bow and arrow from the side of his horse.

He looked around, still maintaining momentum on the horse, and he found a distraction of some sort. It was a squirrel on the tree branch that Rose and her kidnapper were about to go under.

Francis quickly said a prayer under his breath, shooting the squirrel and watching as its unexpected fall startled the kidnapper's horse, causing him _and_ Rose to fall onto the ground as the horse got onto its hind legs.

"Papa!" Rose finally screamed, stumbling to her feet so she could run to him.

"Rose!" Francis cried out in relief. "My-"

He was cut off by the man securing Rose back, his hand firmly around her neck. "Come closer and I break her neck."

Francis stopped his horse. Slowly, he dismounted the horse and lowered his weapons. "She's a child, do not do this. Where's the boy?"

"You'll find him soon enough," the man spat. "Quite a mouth on that one. Girl's smarter."

Francis restrained himself from reacting, merely swallowing deeply. "Whoever ordered this, I can pay triple their price to let them go. I will protect you from them and make sure that we all leave this with our lives."

"I am not here for the money. If I was, I would not be known for my loyalty," the man said.

"Tell me, who wishes ill on my family?" Francis asked, his eyes darting towards Bash who began to sneak up on the man from behind. He hadn't even known his brother had come. He truly was one with the woods if his steps were quiet.

"Why do you want to know?"

"There was a ransom," Francis continued, keeping his eyes trained on his daughter. "But that was a ploy? To throw us off."

The man scoffed. "Vengeance is an ugly thing, isn't it? You have angered a lot of people, you and your family. They thought it was time to pay, time to lose one of your own heirs. No matter what happens, their pain will remain for life and now, so will yours-"

Bash drove his sword through the man's chest, the kidnapper immediately releasing Rose from his grip. As he crumpled to the ground, Francis pushed Rose behind him, going over to look down on the man.

"Tell me who did this."

"You'll... never... know," the man said, blood caking his mouth.

Francis reached his hand out to Bash, silently asking for the sword. "Rose, look away, sweetling."

Rose dug her face into his thigh and she heard the sound of bone breaking, wheezing and other terrible things that she'd probably never forget. But at least she smelt the warmth and safety of her father. Robin was right.

"Where's your cousin, Rose?" Francis asked, kneeling down to meet her eyes.

She opened her eyes, seeing blood all over her father, but she didn't care. "Where they last stayed. They put an arrow through him - Papa, you said arrows were only allowed to be put in targets, not people!"

Bash gasped. "Rose, do you remember which way?"

She nodded. "I left a trail," she told them, pointing towards the rose petals. "One of the men let me relieve myself and I hid them in my skirts."

"You are such a good girl!" Francis breathed out, looking up at his brother. "Let's go."

...

Robin shivered, his eyes slowly closing and opening. He couldn't sleep, not now. He needed to get up and walk. Walk to safety, to someone who could show him the way home.

He started to cry, he wanted his parents desperately. He'd never run off again, he'd never misbehave or say mean things about his baby sister. He'd never be jealous or horrible. He'd eat all of his food, never waste it, and attend to his bedtime on time. He'd be a good boy and his parents would love him.

"Robin!" He thought his father called him.

"Robert!" He thought his paternal uncle called him.

"Robert Francis!" He thought his maternal uncle called him, the one with the same name as him and his grandfather.

Robin covered his ears. The calls were all in his head. The pain was making him not think straight. The men were right, no one will ever find him and he would die, hungry and alone. All alone with his night terrors and mocking mind. He shivered violently.

His stomach grumbled and he sobbed, even more, wiping his running nose.

"Robin, dear God, where are you?!"

Robin's eyes opened wide. That sounded like...

"Papa?!" He called out, gasping.

"Robin?!"

Robin grinned. "Papa!" It was him!

"Robin, where are you?!"

Robin crawled out of the ditch, shielding his eyes from the sun as his arm stung. At least they'd wrapped a cloth around it to stop the bleeding. He didn't like that, blood coming out of his body with no control. He thought he was dying until he was slapped and told that he most certainly wasn't.

"Here! Papa, I'm here!"

He could see a figure slide down the ditch and soon he felt nothing but warmth. He started to cry again, holding onto Bash for dear life as Bash whispered sweet nothings to him, squeezing him just as tight.

"I'm here now, everything will be alright, my child," Bash told him. "We're going home."

...

Mary was the first to notice the band of horses marching towards the gates. She quickly headed out of the bedchamber, taking time to catch her breath quickly as she hurried down the stairs of the castle. She almost tripped, emitting an alarming reaction from Lola who had left the playroom, the children in Kenna's care.

"Mary, what-"

"They're back. They said they wouldn't return without the children," Mary quickly said, heading to the playroom. "Kenna!"

Kenna jumped up from her seat. "Mary, what is it?"

"They're home," Mary said, tears falling down her cheeks. "They're home!"

Kenna's hands shook as she took one of Mary's, allowing herself to be led towards the entrance of the castle. She heard a door open in her bewildered state and she turned around to see her father following them, his steps slow and trembling.

"Mary, slow down!" Kenna breathed out, stopping the queen. "I can't... I can't catch my breath. Mary, what if-"

"I feel it in my gut, they're alive," Mary said. "And they are right outside the gates. Kenna, what are you waiting for?!"

Kenna sniffled. "A-Alright," she said, now leading Mary outside.

They waited, letting the guards help lead the horses inside as one by one, horses piled inside.

Kenna's eyes landed on her brothers. They seemed relaxed or maybe accepting of the fates of the children. She didn't know. All she knew was that when she turned to the next horse, her legs almost gave out.

They didn't because she ran, almost getting knocked by another horse.

"Kenna!" Bash cried out, seeing her reach out for their son. He wanted to scold her for her hastiness, but he realised that he couldn't. Not because of this. She was a worried mother who needed to see her child. "He needs a doctor."

Kenna frowned but still reached for her son nonetheless. "Sebastian, give me my-"

Kenna didn't even need to say more as he gently lowered their child into her arms, tears of relief falling down her eyes when Robin's green eyes met her browns.

"My Sweetrobin," she breathed out, peppering kisses all around his cheeks much to his displeasure.

Mary grinned, turning to her own husband who seemed to be engrossed in a conversation with their own missing child. Missing no longer, but found.

"Mary Rose," Mary whispered, her eyes watering. "Rosie!"

Rose looked away from her father, her eyes finding Mary. "Mama!"

"Rose!" Mary cried out once the girl was in her arms.

The queen lifted the child up, not minding that she pressed against her bump. She quickly placed Rose back onto her feet, feeling winded by the action.

"Mama, I've had quite the adventure!" Rose said, making Mary laugh.

"Is that so?"

Rose nodded sadly, pointing at Robin. "He got hurt because of me..."

Mary's face fell and she turned to see Robin being carried inside, his eyes now closed as his parents followed after, scared for what was to come. Mary turned back to Rose, wiping some dirt from her daughter's cheek.

"Your cousin is a strong boy. Trust me, he will be fine," she said, turning to her husband. "I want to bathe Rose and settle her down. Let me know everything concerning Robin, please."

"Of course," Francis said, pressing a kiss on Rose's head. "We love you, Rosie. So much."

Mary nodded. "We're happy you're home."

Rose smiled a little, wrapping her arms around Mary's legs. "I'm happy I'm home too, Mama."

...

Mary cautiously let herself into the bedchamber, finding Bash asleep on the window bay and Kenna right beside their son on the bed, also asleep. Mary chuckled softly when she realised that Robin wasn't asleep, preferring to hum to himself.

She knelt by his side, his green eyes meeting hers. "Hello, my dear nephew."

"Hello, Aunt Mary," Robin whispered. "I can't get rid of them, they said they'll never leave."

Mary smiled widely. "Well, we're the same with Rosie."

"Is she alright? I tried to protect her-"

"I know," Mary said, stroking his clean and fresh cheek. "I'm so sorry, Robin. You protected your cousin and that got you hurt."

"Papa said it was a flesh wound. It isn't that deep, but I will get a cool scar!" Robin told her excitedly.

_Children_, Mary thought, amused. She said, "But what about your eye and your nose?" She asked, pointing at his black and purple face. "Oh, Robin..."

"It doesn't hurt much," Robin said quietly, his eyes falling. "Papa said that sometimes we had to get hurt for the ones we love. Rose is a girl, I couldn't let them hurt her."

"Robin, you are so perfect, do you know that?" Mary told him. "Your parents adore you and God, they were so worried. How did you keep your faith?"

Robin turned to her. "I told you once, Aunt Mary. My papa said that he will always protect me. And I _know_ his strength and determination. It scares me, but I know he'll never hurt me, Ana or Mama."

Mary eyed Bash, his green eyes hidden to the world as his chest rose and fell as he slept. Mary let out a smile, knowing that Robin was most certainly right. Bash fought hard for those he loved. He loved with all of his heart and he never broke a promise.

"Your father is the strongest man I know," Mary said gently. "You are very lucky because I owe him for finding Rose." And her own husband of course, but it was Bash who found the trail, who promised to bring their children back and upheld his promise. "We love you both so much, Robin. We all love you and we are so happy that you are home."

Robin beamed. "I'm happy to be home, Aunt Mary. Even if Papa snores like a horse."

Mary snorted, stopping her giggles as she pressed a long kiss on his head, stroked his cheek and snuck out of the bedchamber to give the family their privacy once again.

She entered Rose's bedchamber and got into the bed, reaching a hand over her child to hold Francis's.

"How is Robin?" He asked her, Rose's eyes also landing on her.

Mary chuckled softly. "Bemoaning his father's snoring," she said. "He's excited about his new scar."

"Is that so?" Francis laughed. "I remember my first scar."

"What happened, Papa?" Rose asked, alarmed.

"Oh, I fell from a tree. Your uncle promised to catch me - I was four then and he was about seven. We both fell down and I found a branch stuck in my arm and screamed."

Mary laughed. "You're such a wimp!"

"I was _four_, wife!" Francis said, laughing as Rose giggled.

"I am braver than you, Papa and I'm five!" Rose told him. "Shame on you."

Francis feigned hurt, eyeing his wife and daughter. "How dare you belittle my pain!" He said, shoving his sleeve up, to show them a tiny scar. "Look how big it-wait, when did this get smaller?"

Rose groaned, laughing. "Papa!"

Mary sniffled, tears of joy springing to her eyes as she placed kisses on Rose's face. "Oh, Rosie!" She breathed out. "Anne and James can't wait to see you."

"I can't wait to see them! And Robin!"

"Robin may need some time," Mary said gently, eyeing Francis. "He doesn't look his best and he's a bit tired from your ordeal."

She didn't want her daughter to be horrified by Robin's bruised face. She had seen it before it got worse and she didn't want the children to judge him too harshly.

"But we can plan his birthday party!" Francis said.

Rose's face fell. "That's when they put the arrow through him. I'll never forget, Robin was trying to make me feel better. We got away and he got punished!"

She started to cry, Mary's eyes meeting Francis's. They owed everything to that little boy and a few sweet words and a party weren't going to cut it.

"Rose, do you remember what we give soldiers who work hard for our countries?" Francis asked his daughter.

"The medals?" Rose said, almost whining.

Francis nodded. "Do you think Robin would like one?"

His daughter's eyes sparkled. "A lovely gold one! With the fancy decorations on it!"

"Yes," Mary said. "The lovely gold one with the fancy decorations. He deserves it."

Rose beamed happily, hugging her mother tightly. "Oh, this will be the best birthday he will ever have! He is the best big cousin in the world!"

"He is, isn't he?" Francis said, pressing a kiss onto her head. "Let's sleep now."

"Don't leave me," Rose said, grabbing their hands.

"_Never_," her parents said. "We'll never leave you."


	34. A Declaration From The Queen

**Got a new story out for you guys! Frary story is still in the works, getting closer each day! Unrequited will be updated very soon!**

**By the way, made a little mistake in chapter 16 and reworked the dates a bit. The ages (in relation to the month now being August) and birthdays of the children are as follows:**

**Princess Marie Anne, the Duchess of Maine and Glasgow, 17th June - 6**

**Robert Francis 'Robin', the Earl of Avon, 8th August - 6**

**Princess Mary Rose, the Duchess of Calais and Edinburgh, 25th May - 5**

**Prince Francis James, the Duke of Anjou and Aberdeen and Dauphin of France, 30th January - almost seven months (so James is _not_ turning one soon, that was my mistake lol)**

**Anastasia Joanna 'Ana', the Viscountess of Avon, 13th February - almost six months**

**Replies to reviews:**

**elder441 [chapter 33]: The enemy won't be revealed just yet. I have plans for that ;) And Robin really does!**

****Guest (1) [chapter 33]: They will be returning to France soon but with consequences ;) Read on to find out!****

* * *

_'12th August. It's been a day since the children returned home to us. A lot has happened overnight. The Duke was in better spirits and ordered for a celebration to be made. An intimate one, mind you. We still do not know who took them, Francis and Bash having to kill all the men before questioning them. I understand, if I were them, I'd shed blood first and ask questions after. I am starting to believe that Francis wishes to return to French Court. After all of this drama, I have to say the same. We plan to return by the end of the month and come back to Scotland next Summer. I am starting to feel the baby move somewhat, I am only two months gone. He must have sensed my fears and worries over the children. I am excited to see our bundle of joy very soon. By next March, our family will be complete for now. I highly doubt we would be able to have another child so soon after. We should wait a few good years to focus on Scotland and France. Anyway, I should go and find Rose and make sure she is feeling better, my sweetling. Adieu, Mary.'_

Mary smiled warmly when she felt arms wrap around her shoulders. She placed a hand on Francis's arm, closed her eyes and told him, "I wish we knew who orchestrated this."

"The Beatons have it covered. All you need to think about is our children," Francis told her, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Our beautiful children who are safe and well."

She nodded. "How is Bash? I saw Kenna earlier, poor Robin was attached to her hip as she went through the duchy's books without Bash."

Francis sighed. "He blames himself. We went for an early morning ride, that's why you were alone with Rose when you woke up. He needed to vent and I haven't seen him since."

Mary turned her head to face her husband. "We all blame ourselves. But what matters is that the children are home safely."

"Not without punishment," Francis told her. "Robin had an arrow in his arm! We should thank God it didn't get infected, that those men were decent enough to tend to his wounds. Imagine being a parent and seeing your innocent child not the way you last left them. It haunts me, I couldn't sleep."

"Neither could I..." Mary trailed off. "I just stared at Rose throughout."

"I went to check on Anne and James a few times during the night. I thought you didn't notice," her husband said.

Mary smiled. "Oh, I did. I don't blame you, I still think I'm dreaming."

"The children are desperate to see Robin. I don't have the heart to tell them they can't," he said. "Surely, they won't be frightened of him. The swelling has gone down somewhat."

"Rose will blame herself. You heard her say so multiple times," Mary said gently. "I will see to Robin myself and give him anything the children have made for him."

Francis gave her a nod. "Very well. I ought to get our business in order and plan our journey back to France. I've requested Duke Beaton to come along with us. I could use his help in finding out who did this."

"Did he accept?"

"Of course. He is also glad to spend time with Kenna, Bash and the children as well," Francis said. "And that is one more face you trust in French Court. There are vipers and I am sorry to say, I don't trust anyone at Court currently. Not with what happened. Everyone says that whoever did it is closer to home than we think. Home is France and they preyed on the fact that we didn't know Scotland as well as we thought we did."

"It's all my fault," Mary mumbled. "I shouldn't have wanted to come back, to come home. I-"

"No, Mary it's not your fault," he cut her off, cupping her cheek. "If I was from another country, I'd want to go home as well, to overlook my country. You have a duty to Scotland, not just France and we need to show everyone that you are powerful in your own right. You don't need me to protect you, you can protect yourself."

Mary beamed. "Organise a party for the Scottish nobility. I have to speak to my subjects."

...

Mary used wined to calm her frantic heart. Normally, she wasn't scared but with the past few months plaguing her mind, she was nervous at public speaking. It seemed to her that everyone knew what happened, that they judged her and questioned her abilities as a mother and a queen.

She stood up from her throne, gave Francis a look before the hall quietened down for her to speak. She swallowed deeply, eyeing as many people as possible, to make them know they were noticed and valued and she thanked them for their loyalty to her.

"For almost six years, Scotland and I have been strangers. Today, that is no longer the case. I have been here since March and despite the challenges I faced, I came out stronger. For myself, for my family and for _you_. Scotland needs a monarch who can defend her. _I_ defended her, but I didn't announce that to the world. You need a queen who does not make false promises. I do not make false promises. You need a queen to be here, to overlook her government and council. I will now be personally overlooking the going-ons of Scotland, my half-brother, James Stewart, standing down from his position. Scotland, I am coming home and I am _staying_ home. For next year onwards, you have me for six months each year. I will personally see to any and all of your issues and worries. I will make sure you get the attention that I give to France. France is not first for me, _you_ all and everyone else in Scotland are. That is why, my first daughter, Princess Marie Anne, the Duchess of Maine of France and Glasgow of Scotland, will be feasible for marriage when she turns sixteen to one of your sons. To whom my husband and I will see fit."

Mary heard everyone gasp and talk in excitement, planning to bear sons or planning to break marriage proposals they'd already made. She felt Francis touch the small of her back briefly and turned to face his confused face.

"I'll explain later," she whispered.

"Mary, I thought-"

"Please. I need to do this for Scotland. I can't only think about France," she whispered, cutting him off with pleading eyes.

She turned back to the crowd, smiling when they hushed down. Her eyes saw the confused glances of her family, those who understood as opposed to the children who blatantly ignored everything and danced around their governesses.

"Furthermore, I declare Scotland an independent sovereign state separate from France," she announced.

"Dear God!" She heard.

Again, Francis's hand on the small of her back, but she ignored him.

"Yes, that does mean that one of your sons will be married to the _Queen_ of Scotland when I pass," Mary said. "Her brother, James will be the King of France and France alone and relations between the two countries will be one of peace and unity. Sister and brother working together in perfect harmony. That is all, thank you. Enjoy the wine and the food. Scotland, we deserve it."

"Long Live The Queen! Mary, Queen of Scots! Anne, Princess of Scots!" The hall chorused, leaving Mary stunned.

Mary let out a shaky breath, giving her people a wide smile as tears sprung to her eyes. It was the right decision. One that needed to be made, her country needed to be protected.

...

"Mary!" Kenna called out, Lola and Greer following her as Mary stopped in her tracks.

"What just happened?" Lola asked in shock.

"Francis... No one knows what he's thinking," Greer told her.

Mary rubbed her stomach. "Ladies, can I vomit before I do all over you all?"

"Go ahead," Kenna begrudgingly said, the three women following after their queen as they made their way to Mary and Francis's bedchamber.

After emptying her stomach and sipping some wine, chewing a few mint leaves and fixing her crown, Mary turned to her friends and gestured for them to let it all out.

"You've more or less declared war!" Kenna cried out. "On our husbands' country!"

"France and Scotland have always been a political unity. I am trying to make it more than that," Mary said gently. "This way, Anne can be the queen I know she can be and James can also rule as the king I know he will be. I want to take politics out of this, I want to make a _family_. That and France's power over Scotland is _too_ much."

Greer rubbed her head. "Oh, Lord. You should have spoken to Francis at least-"

"I know, it was wrong of me. I've put my marriage on the line, but he should understand that it's for our children," Mary told them. "What happens when I die and James decides to favour one country more than the other? I don't want my children to die for wanting different things than Francis and me. My children are not only France's but they are children of Scottish blood. Anne, Rose, James Valois-Angoulême-_Stuart_. If what happened to Rose and Robin taught me anything is that I do not want to fall out of favour with our country. I want our people to love us and to never want to betray us by using our children against us. It's the only way."

"But a marriage proposal as well?" Lola breathed out. "Mary, have you thought this through?"

Mary turned to her. "Lola, would you rather John marry a Frenchwoman and distrust her or a Scotswoman and trust her? I love Francis _and_ France, but our children must come first along with Scotland."

"Well, good luck talking to Francis," Kenna said. "He looked beyond betrayed."

Mary shrugged. "I love him, but even he knows how dangerous his family are. At least my daughter is protected from Catherine's wrath."

"We can't argue with that," Greer mumbled. "Group hug?"

Mary laughed, hugging them all tightly. "We really must schedule our week away. Perhaps when Greer can visit. Even if we don't know when..."

"I'll try-"

"I will find a way to clear Castleroy's name," Mary cut her off. "I'm sure Bash can do something, anything. We all know the type of man Castleroy is and he isn't a murderer but a man with a kind soul. We will be reunited one day, one way or another."

"And Scotland will be stronger," Kenna said. "I love you all."

"We love you too," Lola replied.

Mary blushed lightly. "You three women, I trust with my life and my children's lives. Never change, any of you. Whatever happens next, we'll always be friends."

She let go of them, stepping back from the hug. She needed to find her husband and explain herself.

Actions did have consequences.


	35. An Ultimatum For The Queen

**Replies for reviews:**

**Guest (1) [chapter 34]: Their marriage will now go through a bumpy ride. They try to support each other, but this sets open a can of worms that they can't come back from. Now, with tensions rising in France and Scotland's happiness at independence, Francis is torn between Mary and France and obviously, that will lead to drama.**

****BlerBlerBler [chapter 34]: She's gone and done it! This will set things up for a bumpy ride in their marriage now that she's broken his trust.****

* * *

"Mary, do you know what you've just done?" Francis asked, gripping the back of the chair tightly. "First trusting Elizabeth by renouncing your claim to England and now _this_?"

Mary looked down. "Francis, it was a smart idea. Now England is not threatened by us and Elizabeth will stand down. We shared a moment. We are cousins after all. The future of England affects the future of Scotland and France. This way, our countries remain united despite whatever comes against them. James with France and Anne with Scotland, we would be unstoppable. Relations can now improve!"

"Have you any idea about the risks you are taking? The damage you've done? When we return to France, I will be seen as weak!" Francis cried out. "That I have more or less lost Scotland-"

"Francis!" Mary snapped. "Scotland was never yours. It's _mine_ and our children's. France has to accept it. We have children, we have two countries between us - Scotland no longer comes last for me. I had hoped that you of all people would understand what this means for me, for Anne and for all of our children present and future."

Francis met her eyes. "You have given away our daughter as if she is a prize."

"No," Mary said gently. "I've given away a future _queen_. Not a prize, but a force to be reckoned with, a piece of the puzzle that joins our nations together as one. Anne will never be a prize, but a woman and queen in her own right. A protector for France and most of all, James. Our son will have allies as strong as him - his sisters."

"I don't know what to say..."

"I've trusted Scotland in the wrong hands long enough. It's time to change that," Mary told him. "Being back home has brought some things to light. Has brought me back to my _roots_. Trusting the Beatons or my half-brother is not enough. I must personally fight to make Scotland prosper."

Francis shook his head. "Am I not enough for you? Is that what this is?"

Mary frowned deeply. "Francis, that is not what is going on here! Look, Rose and Robin were taken due to _your_ people's reactions about France. I never want that to happen in Scotland. I must look favourable to my own country as well as to France. You said it yourself, I have a duty to Scotland before France... I needed to show everyone that I am just as powerful in my own right."

She walked over to her husband, cupping his cheeks. She searched his hurt eyes and sighed, pressing a long kiss onto his lips as a way of apologising for acting so hastily and impulsively.

"I love you with all of my heart," she told him. "Forgive me for caring about my country."

"I won't forgive you," Francis whispered, making her face fall. "There's nothing to forgive. I have been selfish and I am so sorry, Mary. Of course, this is the only solution that our countries remain united as one. I am even ashamed of myself for not seeing it clearer in time."

Mary breathed a sigh of relief, hugging him tightly. She smiled when he wrapped his arms around her waist just as tightly before pulling away and placing a hand on her stomach.

"This will strengthen our family. I truly hope it works for all of our sakes," he said, kissing her cheek. "You should rest."

Mary shook her head. "The Duke has organised an intimate dinner to celebrate the children. They are adamant to see Robin despite everything."

"Then, we'll rest after and perhaps, we should speak to each other _first_ before announcing shocking plans to the world."

She laughed. "Yes, definitely. I really am sorry."

"I know. I just fear what we're expecting when we go back to France," he said, sighing. "The French people once said that I couldn't control my queen... Is that the case?"

Mary tutted at the turnaround of their conversation. "Francis, before I was Queen Consort of France, I was _the_ Queen of Scotland. You were the Dauphin and I had a kingdom on my shoulders. Scotland, she needs me just as much as France needs you and if the French nobility can't see that... then that is their problem."

"Alright. Enough of this, we need to go," Francis said, quickly kissing her to let her know that he held no hard feelings.

As he left her arms, Mary was certain he still did.

...

Kenna sighed when Robin hid behind her skirts, pressing his face into her lower back. "Darling, your cousins want to see you."

"No, thank you, Mama," Robin mumbled against the fabric. "May I go to sleep now?"

Kenna turned, kneeling down to look up at him and cup his cheeks. "Your grandfather has organised this lovely little dinner for you and Rose. We mustn't disrespect Grandpapa now, should we?"

"No..." Robin whispered, covering his face with his good arm. "They'll think I'm a monster!"

"They love you so much, Sweetrobin," Kenna told him, pulling his hand away and looking over his frame. "Don't they, Bash?"

Robin gasped and left her grip to run and jump into Bash's arms, the man immediately lifting his son up as Kenna stood up.

"They do," Bash agreed, pressing a long kiss on their son's head. "Only a few minutes. A quick 'hello' to your uncles, aunts and cousins and of course, Grandpapa Robert and then you can go."

"Fine..." Robin said, jumping down from his arms to enter the room.

Kenna smiled at the sounds of cheering and excitement, turning to face her husband. "Scotland's Little Hero," she said proudly.

"You mean _France's_ Little Hero."

"He can be both," she said, her eyes falling. "I didn't know that Mary would do that. If I did, I probably would have stopped her so she could speak to Francis about it first."

Bash shrugged. "That's the thing. When you belong to one thing but your heart's in another place, it can be difficult. Lines are unclear and you do everything you can to get that thing back despite the puppet strings that pull you."

"Are you saying that Mary was right?" Kenna asked softly.

"All I am saying is that you both have been happy to be back in Scotland. You felt like girls again, joyous and lighter... France is home, but it will never be _home_ to the both of you," Bash replied. "You are your father's light in his life and he was overjoyed to have you and Mary home, in Scotland. So much has happened in France, I guess we all needed to escape and find ourselves again. Remind each other exactly why we love each other."

Kenna walked over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I want to stay in Scotland for a little while longer. Robin can go with you, I am sure he is sick of Scotland for now. But I need to do something I've been putting off for a long time," she shakily said, her eyes watering. "I need to grieve the things I've lost."

"Your mother," Bash whispered, cupping her cheek.

"I was thrust into a position of taking care of my siblings so soon, guiding them through _their_ grief. I never felt that I needed to grieve until now. Almost losing Robin, I can't stop thinking about the 'what if's," she whispered back, nervously eyeing the closed doors where everyone was celebrating.

Bash brushed her tears away. "I understand. I will miss you and Ana, and so will Robin. You do what you have to do and we'll be waiting for when you return."

"Thank you," she breathed out, kissing him deeply before pulling away and meeting his eyes once again. "I think I'm ready."

"For what?" He asked, confused.

Kenna smiled. "Another baby. Not now, but in the future definitely. I think I am better, healthier. Coming to Scotland was exactly what I needed."

"Kenna, are you sure?"

She nodded eagerly. "I most certainly am. We have our little hero, our princess... I think we can swing for one more."

She squealed when she was lifted into the air, her lips meeting Bash's lips once again. Before either of them could deepen the kiss, even more, the door opened and they heard Francis groan.

"We are all celebrating your son in there and you are here, ready to undress and bed each other," the King of France said, grinning. "Robin's popular. The children are very happy to see him."

Kenna giggled, nodding. "We're coming."

"Make that the case," Francis said, winking before going back inside.

Bash rolled his eyes. "I am not excited for the next few months with him teasing me about you and your lack of presence all the time."

She chuckled. "Well, it won't be for long. Good luck in France. I highly doubt anyone will be happy about the split."

"We'll find a solution. I'll keep our bed warm for your return."

Kenna licked her lips, turning to the door. "They won't miss for us for a _few_ minutes..."

...

A month later, Mary and Francis were back in France. From the moment they neared the castle, Mary felt the tension and she immediately tightened her grip on James and Rose as Francis protected Anne.

"I'm sorry," Mary whispered into her husband's ear.

"Mary, it's fine. We will deal with whatever comes our way," Francis said, turning to face the windows of the carriage.

They jumped when they heard something hit the window. Some vegetable or fruit, Mary didn't know. But she did know the hate that soon came after as the words, "Down with Scotland!" were chanted.

"Oh, dear God," Francis muttered darkly. "Mary-"

"This is all my fault," she whispered in shock as James started to wail at the sudden sound. "It's alright my sweets, the people are just upset."

"Why, Mama?" Anne asked.

"Did we upset them?" Rose also asked, eyes wide.

Francis shook his head. "Do not worry your pretty heads about it, my darlings. We will be home very soon."

After the gates closed behind them and they were escorted inside, protected at all sides, Mary saw Catherine march up to them. The Scottish Queen knew what was coming and she handed James over to a governess who took the children away just in time for Catherine to slap Mary's cheek.

"Mother!" Francis cried out, glaring at her as he shielded Mary away.

"What have you done, you stupid girl?" Catherine breathed out, angrily.

Francis turned around to see Bash enter with Robin and Duke Beaton. "Bash, Duke Beaton, Mother, my offices. Now."

Mary was first to walk off, keeping her head down as the whispers started to come. Her eyes stung with tears, but she wouldn't let them fall. She was humiliated enough.

...

"How could you let her do this?" Catherine asked, pacing the room. "I knew that going to Scotland was a bad idea! She's completely started an uprising! This is why I was in England, this is what I tried to prevent."

Francis sighed from his seat, warily eyeing his quiet wife. "Mother, we had a reason to do this."

"_You_ were a part of this?" Catherine asked, eyes wide. "Would someone please speak some sense in this room? Sebastian, speak."

Bash raised his eyebrows. "Uh-"

"Oh, wonderful. I am surrounded by idiots."

"If you'd let us _speak_," Francis snapped, rolling his eyes. "We'd tell you that Rose and Robin were kidnapped before we returned."

"Rose and who?" Catherine asked in shock.

Bash glared at her. "My son, Robert?"

"Oh, you call him _Robin_, yes. Rose and Robin were kidnapped? By who?" She asked, crossing her arms.

"We don't know," Duke Beaton said, gaining her surprised attention. "Queen Catherine, a pleasure to formally meet you, may I say?"

"Oh, yes. A pleasure," she replied, smiling a little. "I tried to initiate communications with you, but your daughter-"

"Is a little protective over me," Robert said, smiling. "But within reason, I do not subject my soldiers to matters of politics. Nor do I take orders from a French dowager queen."

Catherine looked taken back. "I do not seek help from a rude widower," she said. "Anyway, we must solve this puzzle. We have many enemies in France, it could have been anyone. From Luc Narcisse over the deaths of his brother and father and with Claude's pregnancy, she will not be able to control his actions."

"_If_ it was him," Mary mumbled, turning to her. "It could be Antoine Navarre or any of the Bourbons-"

"Because of Louis," Francis said quietly, getting up. "It was them. It has to be."

Bash frowned deeply. "That is not Antoine's style-"

"He ruined your marriage the first time by trying to pursue an affair with Kenna," Catherine quickly said much to Robert's alarm.

"My daughter did what?" The man asked, turning to his son-in-law.

"It was a misunderstanding," Bash assured him. "Our marriage is stable. I assure you."

"He tried to kill you," Francis added, turning to Bash. "And we killed Louis because of Mary. Bash, it has to be Antoine. Why else would Robin be taken if not for his jealousy that you and Kenna managed to fix things? He wanted her, but you had her."

Robert cleared his throat. "When did this happen exactly?"

"Before the children," Bash said softly. "Kenna and Antoine got close because I didn't give her the attention she needed. I was busy doing my duties as King's Deputy and she felt abandoned. There was no affair of any sort, but he did try to force things with her by offering something I couldn't."

"And what was that?"

"What does a woman of her status want?" Bash asked, shrugging.

Mary turned to him. "She still loves you despite everything. Even if you were the poorest man, she'd be happy to be yours. Don't feel disheartened over Antoine's jealousy. It makes sense for it to be him, we must start searching for him."

"He's a king," Catherine reminded them. "His poor wife... What a man she married, then again I know how it feels to be discarded over for the next piece of spirited arse."

"That's still my wife you're talking about," Bash told her. "And my mother."

"Hmm, don't you see the pattern of the women in your own life?" Catherine asked him. "You should rethink your life's choices."

Bash frowned. "What? I can't choose who gives birth to me. And I was forcefully married to Kenna. I don't see your point."

"The two women who were Henry's mistresses... Now, that's just unlucky, Sebastian," Catherine retorted.

"Enough," Francis said, biting back an amused smile. "We have figured out who took the children and we will carefully deal with this without starting any wars. As for Scotland's independence..."

Catherine groaned. "I really do try with you, Mary. I really do. You make it impossible."

Mary rubbed her face. "If Scotland and France remain united as one nation, two rulers, Scotland will forever be in France's debts. I was a queen married to a _prince_, not a king. This way, Anne and James can rule together, can defend themselves as opposed to James forfeiting one for the other. I am thinking about my country, about my children. Catherine, you may not care for daughters and I know you've lost some, but I love my children equally. What happened to Rose and Robin shook me understandably and it made me realise that although Scotland loves me, she doesn't _respect_ me. She doesn't feel protected or loved by me and I had to show my subjects that I still think of Scotland as home. I never thought I'd explain it to you. Then again, you became queen when you married a king."

Catherine was stunned. "Yes, I was very young when I left Italy for France, but that didn't mean I'd turn my back on Italy."

"It feels like I've ignored Scotland's needs for France's. For you, for Francis and for any other person who seeks aid or needs something," Mary replied. "I am the queen of a country, they look up to _me_. They don't trust the French without me having to firmly make sure that we can trust the French. This way, our children are both French and Scottish and they can show _their_ subjects exactly how unity is done."

"My wife puts forward a valid case," Francis told his mother. "What do you say? Let's stop this war of 'my country and your country' and start working together for the sake of James and Anne."

Catherine sighed heavily, nodding her head firmly. "If this fails and the French try to assassinate us and overthrow us, I will remember this day and I will tell you exactly what I think. That this was a bad idea."

...

Mary barely got back to her bedchamber in time to throw up in the chamber pot. Calming her heart, she jumped when she felt a presence behind her, turning to stare a stranger with wide eyes.

"Gu-"

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," the man warned, a dagger in his hand.

Mary glared him down. "How did you get in?"

"I am here to deliver a message."

"Very well," she snapped. "Deliver it."

The man narrowed his eyes but spoke. "Your independence speech was heartwarming... That is only the first step."

"The first step?" Mary asked.

"Destroy all relations with France, Queen Mary of Scots. Delegitimise your children, and leave for Scotland or else..."

"Or else 'what'?" Mary spat angrily.

"Kidnapping one of your heirs is not _all_ we'll do. Their bedchambers will be soaked with their blood, the child inside you cut from your womb-"

"Who sent you?" Mary shakily asked. "Why do you want to harm us?"

The man tilted his head. "It's not nice to toy with people, is it? Little Rose and her blonde locks. She favours the King, we can tell. You have a week to sort your affairs in order, Your Majesty." He mockingly bowed before turning around towards the secret door.

"Who sent you?!" She screamed at his back, placing a protective hand over her stomach.

"Navarre sends his regards," the man said before leaving.

Mary sank to the bed, breathing heavily as she covered her face. She started to shake, tears running down her cheeks. If he got in, he could take her children at any time. She had to close the secret doors up, make sure no one used them. Everyone must be seen and heard at all times.

"Mary?"

"Francis!" She cried out, running into his arms.

"Mary, what is it?" Francis asked, cupping her cheeks. "I know my mother was cruel. She certainly shouldn't have slapped you and I'll-"

"It's Antoine. He wants revenge," Mary whispered, sobs escaping her lips. "He threatened the children. Wants me to annul our marriage and return to Scotland. I-I think he wants to overthrow you and claim the French throne. The Bourbons are coming after us!"

Francis gasped, holding her tightly against his chest as she sobbed. Antoine despised the Valoises and now, if he could get rid of Mary's support, France would be an easy target.

"Mary, I'll never allow this to happen. We don't need to worry because we've got each other."

"Francis, what have I done?" She sobbed. "I just wanted to protect Scotland now they're using it against you!"

"Mary-"

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," she said, hugging him tightly. "I'm so sorry..."

Francis sighed, closing his eyes as he pressed a kiss on the top of her head. It wasn't her fault, she was doing what was best for Scotland, something he never did unless she had to scream at him to do so. He'd acted in France's favour over Scotland many times and had expected the same of her.

He seldom forgot he married a _queen_, not a princess.

"We will fix this, Mary," he said quietly. "I promise."


	36. A Secret Shared With The Queen

**Replies to reviews:**

**Guest (1) [chapter 35]: ;) I'm not saying anything.**

**BlerBlerBler [chapter 35]: We are all with Catherine and she more or less has left them to it! We'll have to see how they get themselves out of this one. Yeah, I can't remember if he died on the show, but I've killed him off anyway because I hate him. Love the actor because I watch him on another show and he's amazing!**

**Guest (2) [chapter 35]: I am not saying anything ;)**

**Guest (3) [chapter 35]: Here's the next chapter! :)**

**Guest (4) [chapter 35]: Here's the next chapter! :)**

**I rewrote this so many times because I want to speed things up a little bit. I hate the bad stuff because I mostly wanted this to be all happy, but obviously there has to be some drama and bad things. I will clearly state where the family are at in their lives. Also, I am really busy for the next couple of weeks and I am almost ready for the 2nd November release of my new Frary story. I will actually be dropping that and another short story on that day (I have an exam on the 1st, so can't put it then unless I manage to find some time). I am really excited for you guys to read my Frary story. It's a Modern AU (I think that this is enough for the 'real universe') and God, I'm just so excited for you guys to read it! That means that this story will take a little bit of a backseat in terms of updating. Royaume is updated when I have a chapter written and to be honest so is Unrequited, but my new Frary story will be updated frequently as I want to focus a lot more on Frary because I can't get enough of them. Wow, that was long! Onto the story! And don't hate me! It's not for long, I swear!**

* * *

Francis looked up from his desk, hearing the door open. He sighed in relief when it was just Bash, his paranoia already taking place following last night's infiltration and warning for his wife.

Neither of them had slept easy, preferring to have all three children tucked in between them in their bed. It wasn't as if the children were complaining, milking the most out of the situation to be able to sleep in mama and papa's comfortable bed.

"You look better than I feel," Francis said lightly, gesturing for Bash to enter as his eyes went back down onto the paper.

"How is Mary?" Bash asked.

"Paranoid," Francis mumbled, feeling a headache come on. "We all are, but we can't show that."

"What do you really think about what she did?"

Francis sighed, looking up to meet Bash's eyes. "I don't fully approve. I can't tell her that, she is already stressed out enough. We don't want to risk her health nor the baby's health either.

"What do you need me to do?" Bash asked. "I'll round up some men, patrol the grounds-"

"I need you by my side at all times," Francis cut him off. "Well, _not _at all times. You understand what I mean."

"You need me close," Bash said, nodding. "I'll send Leith then."

Francis swallowed deeply, joining his hands and resting his chin on them. "Am I a horrible husband?" He asked quietly, looking down as if he was a shy schoolchild.

"I wouldn't know, we're not married," Bash replied lightly.

Francis smiled a little, his eyes finding his ring with both his and Mary's coat of arms imprinted on it. "You once told me to be a bad king in favour of being a good husband. As an outsider to my marriage, do you think I am a good husband?"

"Francis, I seriously can't judge," Bash said, shrugging. "Especially as my own marriage has faced many, many downs. Let's just say that we're-"

"We're 'what'?" Francis asked, looking up just in time to see his brother fall to the ground, blood spilling out of his chest as Antoine stood behind him.

Before he could cry out, his eyes snapped open.

...

"Francis!" Francis heard, halting in his steps to turn to face Bash. "I've been looking everywhere for you. The guards said you went for a ride. I went to look for you, heard you went to spar and-"

"You need to return to Avon with Robin. As soon as possible," Francis quickly said.

Bash frowned. "Don't you need me?"

"I do," Francis breathed out. "But I need you alive."

"Alive?" Bas questioned. "Francis-"

"Divide and conquer," Francis cut him off, patting his shoulder. "I trust you."

Bash laughed. "Then shouldn't I be here? As one of the only people you trust?"

Francis nodded stiffly. "But I have Leith and I am sure your lands need seeing to. We have been away from France for a while and Kenna must have overlooked a few things or two when she did the books."

"Francis, you're acting suspicious," Bash said, crossing his arms. "Tell me what's going on."

"Nothing," Francis said, his eye twitching.

Bash narrowed his eyes. "You're lying. Is it about what happened last night? I can assure you, I will be more vigilant next time. None of Navarre's conspirators will ever step foot in this castle and threaten Mary or the children again, I swear-"

"We can't speak here," Francis said, his eyes darting about. "Let's go for a ride."

A good few miles away from Court later, Francis got off his horse and inhaled the fresh air. He pinched himself, making sure that he was awake and his brother was really standing before him, alive and well.

"I need you to take the children and Mary to Avon," Francis told his brother. "From Avon, the Duke will help take them on the first ship to Scotland."

Bash face fell. "You think the French will try to overthrow you?"

"They've already tried to kill one of us before," Francis said, staring at him pointedly.

Bash rolled his eyes. "That was my mother's fault. That had nothing to do with the rest of you. They love you, not me. That's fair enough, but surely they wouldn't turn on you? I am a bastard, an easy target. You, Charles and Henri and legitimate Valoises, they won't touch you."

Francis winced at his brother's description of himself. _Easy target_. "Mary is protected. If they arrest her, she'll be exiled to Scotland. If they go for her head, Scotland's nobles will rain heavy fire on France _with_ England's support. I need you to do this for me, Bash."

"What will happen to you?" Bash asked quietly. "Francis, you are my brother. My whole life, I've been protecting you. I won't stop now."

"I don't need protection," Francis said. "Mary does. I need you to look after her should anything happen. Be there for her and the children. I am sure you'll find a place in Scotland, the Duke is fond of you."

"France is our home, they can't drive us out," Bash snapped.

"A revolution is brimming, Bash!" Francis cried out. "Ever since Mary's declaration of independence, I knew we lost our throne. It's over."

Bash shook his head. "It's not over until we make it over," Bash told him. "We have allies in Scotland-"

"Allies?" Francis scoffed. "They're on my wife's or my children's sides. Not mine, and most certainly, not France's. Mary's given them exactly what they wanted! Now France will vie for independence and a complete collapse of the monarchy."

"I will take Mary and the children to Avon. From there, I will return back to Court and I'll be by your side whatever happens," Bash said. "It's my fault that Antoine came after us in the first place. I killed his brother."

"And I killed his other brother," Francis mumbled. "We're both as damned as the other, but you have a chance. You were never truly a Valois, you can escape and be protected by the Scots."

"I hate repeating myself," Bash replied. "Francis, I'm staying. We're done with disputing that."

Francis sighed heavily. "Everyone already hates you. Are you sure you want to be seen siding with me?"

"You're my king," Bash replied simply. "But most of all, my brother. I'll side with you even on your worst days."

He offered Francis his hand but the blonde pulled him in for a tight hug. "Whatever happens, we'll always be family."

...

Francis knew that they had to be clever with this. He didn't act out of sorts, carrying his duties out and comforting his wife whenever she needed to be comforted.

Mary felt like everyone's enemy. Francis and Bash being the only ones she could count on. A month had passed and nothing was out of the ordinary since then, except the extra guards from Scotland arriving with Kenna.

"I see your brother got my message," the Duke said, greeting his daughter with a kiss to her cheek as they followed Mary inside. "It was Mary's orders for extra guards."

"We can't trust anyone at Court," Mary said quietly, giving Kenna a warm smile. "Where is Ana?"

Kenna blushed. "I asked my brothers to take care of her as I came to France with the guards. Mary, I am not staying for long."

"What do you mean?"

"We have a plan," Kenna told her. "Care for a walk in the gardens? I need to stretch my legs out."

The three of them ended up in the gardens, slowly strolling through the autumnal grass. Mary was cautious, placing a protective hand on her bump as Kenna linked their arms.

"Mary, we are doing everything in Scotland to protect you. We've even consulted with England and should anything happen, Elizabeth is willing to play in our favour," Kenna told her. "But it requires months of planning and deception."

"You are good at that," Mary said lightly. "Go on, tell me."

Duke Beaton cleared his throat. "I have positioned myself within the French nobles. No one knows me here, my accent is easily adaptable for my needs. Years of covert training to thank."

"Uncle?"

"Antoine Navarre has friends in high places. There were talks of him seeking the Pope," Robert revealed. "Two things. His ascent to the throne of France _and_ an annulment of marriage. It was a good and a bad thing that you declared Scotland as an independent sovereign."

Mary gasped in shock. "Then what is the plan? Whose annulment does he seek?"

"Yours and Francis's," Kenna told her. "He wishes to marry you, but as you are with child... I've decided to take your place. He doesn't know that we know, and he already has somewhat of a relationship with me. He should find it _easy_ in a manner of speaking to convince me to leave Bash for him. He's tried this once with one queen, he knows he will fail with another if he is not careful."

"Kenna, I can't-"

"You've already sent me into the lion's den once, I can do it again," Kenna told her, clutching her friend's hands. "This is to save France, to save Scotland and England and stop Navarre from ruining what you and Francis have built."

"Catherine and her children will go to Italy. I have made arrangements for you, Robin and the children to go to Scotland tonight," Robert said. "I will stay, but the Marquess should meet you on the ship. You'll go through England, Elizabeth's forces are stronger than ours should anything happen, God forbid."

Mary placed a hand on her spinning head. "Is this something you planned with Francis?"

"Yes," the Duke confirmed. "But Mary, it is for your own protection."

"We have to play the long game," Kenna said gently. "It just so happens that it starts right now."

...

Mary breathed Francis in, her eyes closing as she tried to imprint everything about him in her head. She had no idea when she would see him next. Everything was done so quickly, false children to act as their own already in place and a false statement that she is visiting Sweden announced already.

There would be no French guards, only Scotsmen and they would send word at each checkpoint on their journey back to Court, through word of mouth. If one was killed, the next checkpoint would have a warning.

"I love you so much, Mary," Francis said, kneeling down to kiss her womb. "And our child. Stay safe."

Mary looked down at him, her fingers curling into his blonde locks. "You too. Stay safe for me, for our children. Have you said 'goodbye'?"

"I couldn't do that to them. Tell them how much I love them every day," he replied, standing back up to kiss her lips.

Mary tried to deepen the kiss, but he pulled away and shook his head. "I have to go," she said sadly. "I love you."

"It's time," the Duke told them, entering the bedchamber. "My guards will see them to each checkpoint and beyond. They will return by tomorrow night if all goes well. Pray hard."

Francis shakily nodded, pressing another kiss on Mary's lips before she finally left his side. He wanted to cry, but he held his tears in and stood tall like the king he was.

As she reached the door, Mary mouthed, "See you soon, my king."

Then she was gone.

...

As they got redressed, Kenna felt Bash's chin on her shoulder. She lifted a hand to curl around the back of his neck and sighed heavily, tears springing to her eyes.

"After tonight, we can't have any more nights together," she whispered sadly. "I want you to know that I love you and it's all part of the plan. If I do anything out of the sort, anything that makes you doubt my love for you..." She turned, taking her ring off. "Remember that one day, I'll return for that and we'll be happy with our family."

Bash cupped her cheek, pressing his lips against hers desperately. "I can't let you do this."

"It's better a lady of waiting than a pregnant queen," Kenna told him. "Antoine will kill their child, you know that."

"And ours?" Bash asked, pressing a hopeful hand onto her womb. "If he finds out-"

"Babies come early. Both of ours did, and they turned out to be yours. You know how good of a liar I am, but I can _never_ lie to you, my love," she said. "This child that we've hopefully made will be enough to fool him into thinking that he's got his heir. After Jeanne lost theirs, his life has never been the same. He is hungry for power, which makes him blind to what's happening underneath his nose."

Bash sighed. "Kenna, I'm not going to Scotland."

"W-What?"

"I'm staying, for Francis."

"But-"

"Kenna, he's my brother, my _king_. I can't leave him to suffer alone," Bash said gently.

Kenna's eyes watered. "They can use this as a reason to kill you. First trying to claim the throne, now supporting a king they see as weak? Bash, I know you love Francis, but you need to make the right choices for our family."

"I can protect you."

"Buried six foot under the ground? Or in a prison cell?" Kenna asked, shaking her head. "Bash, don't do this to me. Stick with the plan."

Bash searched her eyes. "I don't think our efforts were enough," he whispered, kissing her neck as he began to undress her again.

Kenna knew that it was meant as a distraction, that he'll use their lovemaking as a way to sway her. What annoyed her is that she didn't even fight against it, finally accepting the new spanner in the works with a quiet and breathless, "Fine."

...

_"Give up and surrender. Don't fight it, it's all part of the plan to destroy the Bourbons once and for all."_

"Are we sure about this?" Francis asked Bash and Kenna as they sat by the fireplace in his lonely bedchamber.

Kenna nodded. "We willingly give France up, unite our forces with England and come back twice as strong. You'll reclaim the throne, give some inspirational speech for your people to get back in their favour and instead of claiming Scotland again, you'll claim England."

"How do we know that she won't go back on her word?"

"Elizabeth knows she'll never have children," Kenna told him. "A deal with the French and Scots is looking favourable as opposed to her people revolting against her in the future and killing her, declaring a dictatorship. She has strong allies in Scotland and soon, France. She would be wise to take them up on their offers for protection."

Francis downed his drink, wincing at the taste. "How can you see into the future when I have no hope that I'll ever see my children again? What if Antoine orders for our heads the minute he barges in and takes over? His allies are stronger than ours right now, he won't hesitate."

"He's a narcissist," Bash said. "He'd want to torture us. You by saying how his plan worked for Scotland and France to separate. Me by dangling my wife in front of my eyes as his new bride."

"Queen of France," Kenna said lightly. "Now that's more like it as opposed to small Navarre. He's already annulled his marriage, he's coming for a better bride soon enough and I will be there with all the right words in his ear and intel for our people."

"And who are 'our people'?" Francis asked her.

Kenna sighed. "As much as Scotland loves her independence, Mary still is the Queen Consort of France. The Scottish and French people are both her people and mine. My children do have French blood after all."

"I hope we are having our third. I really do not want _his_ child in you," Bash told her, kissing her hand softly.

"The only children that I want to bear are yours. If it doesn't work, I'll keep visiting you. As I said, the long game, gentlemen," Kenna replied. "I just have to delay his attempts to annul our marriage as he tried to the first time... I have to go."

She stood, kissing Bash softly before placing a comforting hand on Francis's shoulder. Francis placed his hand on hers and squeezed it, turning his head to give her a small smile.

"Stay safe Kenna," he said. "You may be Scottish, but you are _family_."

Kenna smiled, cupping her husband's cheek as well as Francis's. "I'm a strong woman, I can look after myself. Don't try and play the hero, because we don't want to chance anything. Good luck."

After she'd gone, Francis sighed heavily and turned to Bash. "So, it seems like my mother was right."

"When has she ever been wrong?" Bash asked. "Now we just have to wait until it all starts falling."


	37. A Promise From The Queen

**Replies to reviews:**

**BlerBlerBler [chapter 36]: Yes, Kenna is going to do her bit to save France ;)**

**Guest (1) [chapter 36]: Sorry for the delay! Revising for my exams is stressful, haha. Yes, Bash is an amazing, supportive older brother and Francis is very lucky to have such a loyal family. Partly. Yes, a standing ovation for Kenna! **

**Guest (2) [chapter 36]: Here's the next chapter! :) The Frary story is almost here! 2nd November!**

* * *

Mary jumped when she felt a hand on her knee, her head turning to Rose. "Darling, you should be asleep."

"Mama, why didn't we say 'goodbye' to Papa?" Rose asked, her eyes wet with tears.

"Does he not love us anymore?" Anne added, eyes wide as she hugged her teddy tightly.

Mary sniffled, her tears long since dried. "Papa loves you all very dearly. You see he wants us to be safe so we have to go back to Scotland."

"At least you have your mama," Robin piped up. "Mine came and left before she said 'goodbye' to me."

Mary leaned forward and brushed a finger over his cheek. "Your parents love you so much, don't doubt that. There's something we have to do in order to restore peace and happiness in France. It will take patience, but it will be worth it. Just know, whatever happens, the four of us love you all very much."

Mary leant back on her seat, her eyes turning to the dark sky above. They had completely diverted from Avon, hearing that a few Navarre supporters were on the path to Avon. She knew that they would probably burn the de Poitiers' lands down, Antoine's vengeance going deeper than a broken heart from a former king's mistress and the same king's bastard son's wife.

"We will all be reunited very soon," Mary promised the children.

"Will we really, Aunt Mary?" Robin asked with Anne resting her head on his shoulder as her own eyes met her mother's own.

Mary nodded, smiling brightly. "We will see them all very soon. But for now, we'll have a wonderful adventure in Scotland. Robin, you will see your sister and we can make all the strawberry and lemon tarts we can!"

The Scottish Queen then turned her head away from them as her tears returned and her teeth dug into her bottom lip, trying to stop herself from letting out a sob in front of the children and alarming them.

She wasn't sure if she believed that they will be reunited soon herself.

...

"How far are Navarre's army?" Francis asked Leith as he paced his bedchamber.

He hadn't been able to sleep. It had been a week now, no word from Mary, Kenna or any of their other supporters. Kenna had told him patience, but Francis was never one for that, nor was Bash who was itching for his sword to draw blood again, his bloodthirst unquenchable. He wanted to get this over and done with so he could have his wife back in his arms and far away from Antoine.

"They have been delayed."

"Delayed by what?" Bash asked.

Leith shrugged. "I don't know. I couldn't get more information out of the guard I managed to infiltrate. I doubt Navarre knows my face, he shouldn't be suspicious if I wear his coat of arms and stand with his soldiers."

"He isn't that stupid, unfortunately," Bash said. "He remembered every face from when I killed Marcus. It just so happened to be that my face was the one he wanted for all of these years."

"So, no playing 'pretend'," Leith muttered. "What happens when they get through the gates?"

"We submit-"

"Submit?" Leith asked, turning to Francis. "I was thinking that we would be fighting. Fighting with all we got, fighting for France to remain in the hands of a Valois."

Francis sighed heavily, groaning loudly. "I will explain this quickly. We have a plan-"

"A vague plan," Bash cut in.

"A _vague_ plan," Francis reiterated. I do not know much nor does Bash, but we have to trust the Scots," Francis said.

"I thought trusting the Scots was what got us into this mess?" Leith asked lightly. "Sorry, was that too soon?"

"Way too soon," Bash snapped, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, I am guessing that your brief moment with Lady Kenna wasn't enough?"

Bash looked up and glared at Leith. "If the next thing that comes out of your mouth isn't helpful-"

"Let's stop fighting, shall we?" Francis cut in, sitting down. "We just have to be patient. Let the course run itself out and trust in the Scottish and English to come through with their word."

"In other words, trust that my wife beds my worst enemy successfully?" Bash asked, covering his face. "It's already destroyed our marriage once, what's to say that it won't this time?"

Francis shrugged. "All I know is that Kenna loves you. As she was losing the baby," he began, watching Bash wince. "All she talked about was you and how much she wanted you and no one else. She was willing to bleed out and die if not for the idea of you wanting to hear her out. She told me that you were the only one she loved, that no one would ever be you and she wouldn't want them. Only you."

"It was her idea."

"And she is willing to do this for France. She has no obligation to me, but because you are my brother and you love me, she is willing to do this for me," Francis told him. "Not even for Mary. They have an independent Scotland, their ties with France are broken if not for our marriage and the children. You, Bash. You are the reason she is doing this."

Bash nodded slowly. "I pray that it happens quickly because I can't live without her. And you can't live without Mary. If we escaped now, what would happen?"

"I'd live out my days in Scotland with my family at Linlithgow Palace. You, Kenna and the children at Castle Barton or your own lands somewhere else... I will stand by Mary's side as King Consort. I mean, who even needs France, am I right?"

Leith laughed wryly. "It has been an honour to serve you, my king. I will do so until my dying breath-"

"No, let's not do that. Sit down, let's drink and let's celebrate what is probably our last moments together," Francis said, gesturing for him to take a seat.

"Well, if my king wills it..."

...

It felt like a hundred years ago that she was happy with Bash and their children. It had been a few weeks since she left him and his brother by the roaring fire, tears slipping down her cheeks the moment she closed the door behind her.

She was showing signs of pregnancy, taking some herbs that Nostradamus gave her after confirming it to stop the sickness. He had later left to catch up with Mary and the children, and go to Scotland with them - Catherine having long since gone. Nostradamus was still an important trusted member of Court. _Francis's_ Court.

Kenna needed her pregnancy to be a secret, she also needed to bed Antoine quickly as to not raise his suspicions of an early baby. She felt sick, for so many reasons. Most of all, for being in his presence again, after the last time he had ruined her marriage and fooled her. Left her crying sad tears as her husband moved his belongings out of their shared bedchamber, but requested that they remain married on paper as to protect her. That had given her hope, marriage couldn't be undone easily.

"I made a mistake," Kenna said, surrounded by guards as Antoine finally made an appearance.

She looked around. It was an ornate whorehouse of some kind, she obviously knew of his desires for places such as these from the first time she met the man. It repulsed her, but she kept her calm and feigned tears.

"Bash... He wasn't the man I thought he would be, you were right," she told him, taking a step towards him to cup his cheek.

She jumped, guards ready to strike her down as Antoine crossed his arms inquisitively. She watched him study her, try and suss her out as he cooly made his way towards her.

"Why are you really here, Duchess?" He asked boredly.

"I am here to take what is rightfully mine," she replied matter-of-factly. "You."

Antoine smiled a little. "Me?"

"Yes, you. You asked me to be your queen once and I know of your annulment to Jeanne. Luckily for you, you managed to keep Navarre due to some secret clause," Kenna explained. "I applaud that and I approve."

"You want to be my queen?"

"I do. I really do. Bash could never give me what you offered to me that day. I am stupid for even believing so-"

"You returned to him, bore his children-"

"And I saw him make love to other women that weren't me! _Love_ other women that weren't me," Kenna cried out, her fake tears becoming uncontrollable. When did she become such a good liar? She seemed to believe herself. "He used me to bear his heirs and nothing more. I meant nothing to him and now my children... I will never see them again because of him."

Antoine sighed, coming over to cup her cheeks. "Don't cry, Kenna. I am glad you saw the truth before it was too late. I can't make you queen though."

"What? That is what I want!" Kenna snapped angrily, pushing him away from her a little. "I don't want a lowly title of _duchess_. The duchess of what? A man who whores around all day and leaves me days on end with our children? He isn't worth it, he isn't _you_."

She then leaned forward and placed a hand on his cheek, softly kissing his lips. She felt the urge to throw up, but she blinked back tears, staring at his closed eyes as their mouths moulded together.

She quickly closed her eyes and he pulled away first to say, "Every king needs a mistress or two. I heard that you are perfect for the role."

Kenna mentally cursed. "I'll take it," she breathily said, knowing she could full well change that. "I should have given you myself the moment you kissed me. Maybe I wouldn't hurt so much standing here like I am some stupid child who knew no better. Maybe, I'd be your wife and we'd have a family by now."

"Kenna, Bash doesn't know what he's lost. You will be happy with me, I swear it and I will personally reclaim your children for you-"

"That is not needed," Kenna cut him off, wrapping an arm around his waist and looking up at him through her lashes. "Not when I'll have _your_ children..." She trailed her fingers up his chest, batting her eyelashes. "Every king needs a few bastards or ten. I want to bear something that shows _our_ love."

"We will see," Antoine told her, turning to his guards. "Make sure she is comfortable. If she isn't, I will have one of your fingers."

Kenna frowned but quickly masked it with happiness when his lips met hers again. She couldn't believe it worked, but the idea of having to kiss him, hug him and do all the things she should be doing with Bash repulsed her deeply. She kept mentally apologising to her beloved husband, hoping that this will not take as long as it would.

She felt her skin crawl and her lips burn as she pushed down her nausea and followed after his guards.

_Oh, dear God_...

...

Claude groaned, rubbing her growing bump. She was three months near her due day and she felt restricted. But not that restricted that she couldn't get up to use the chamber pot.

In annoyance after not receiving any word to help her, she got up herself and headed towards the chamber room where her husband's offices were right beside it. She had to relieve herself quickly.

Finally sitting down with a sigh of relief, she frowned when she heard her husband speak in hushed tones.

Finishing up in the chamber room, she quietly made her way to the door and pressed her ear against it.

"If Navarre needs my help, he needs to promise me something," her husband said.

"And what may that be, Luc?"

"Francis Valois's head. He killed my father, his wife killed my brother. They were innocent-"

"Not as innocent as you thought, but yes. You will have your wish eventually, but for now we must get into French Court and influence the nobles," the man replied. "Your father was one of the main figures in French Court. At times he sided with the Valoises. Where is your place?"

"With the Bourbons," Luc said firmly.

"Even if your wife is a Valois herself?"

Luc scoffed. "She is a Narcisse now. The child inside her is a Narcisse. It may have Valois blood, but they will be Narcisses until their dying breaths. Leave my home, now."

"Gladly. Make sure you are at Court in three days."

"Why?"

"That is when we will arrest Francis Valois for failing France and losing Scotland, along with his bastard brother, Sebastian de Poitiers. Seems like we'll have both of Henry Valois's favourite sons' heads," the man said matter-of-factly. "Sleep well. Do send your wife my regards. I hope you won't let her in on the fact that it was her who led to her niece and nephew's kidnapping."

"Don't you say anything-"

"I am sure she would love to know that the letters she wrote to her beloved brothers, Francis and Sebastian, were read and that you gave all of that information to us before sending it off," the man continued, cutting Luc off. "We have things over you, choose wisely on whose side you are on."

Luc cursed. "You know whose side I am on!" He roared.

"Tut, tut, tut," the man taunted. "I am just checking. Goodnight, _Narcisse_."

Claude hurried back into their bed as quick as she could, just getting in time for Luc to come inside. She opened her eyes and turned to him, smiling softly as she invited him over.

The thought of touching him disgusted her, after what she had learnt but in order for her and her child to live, she needed to pretend. She hoped that her brothers would forgive her as well as their wives.

"Husband," she greeted him. "It is late, come and sleep."

"I will, soon," Luc replied, strained as he played with her hair. "How is the baby?"

Claude blinked. "It is fine. I hate being with child, but I love our child."

"I do too. Claude, I am so sorry."

"For what?"

"Not being around as much as I'd like to. You are carrying my child and I am leaving you unattended," Luc said, kissing her cheek. "Very soon, that will change and we will be able to get whatever we want when we want it."

Claude shivered and she played it off. "It is awfully cold, my darling. Can you-"

"Oh, of course! I will close the windows," he said, getting off the bed to head to the windows. "I love you, Claude."

_No, you don't,_ she thought bitterly. _Otherwise, you wouldn't be planning to kill my brothers and confess to aiding in kidnapping their children. I swear, you will not see this child and you will die right by your father's shallow grave._

She smiled, kissing his lips when he returned to her side. "I love you too, Luc."

...

Three days later, Duke Beaton blended with the nobles, waiting for the moment when everything was going to change. He had felt breathless, fearful of his daughter's plan and hopeful that Mary had travelled safely with the children to Scotland.

An English soldier disguised as a French guard had managed to update him, Mary had gone three out of ten checkpoints so far with no worries with the children. It was too delayed and he hoped that his queen hadn't been delaying her journey purposefully.

"I wonder what is going on," a noblewoman said to her husband. "The King requested for an announcement."

"I hope it is that his stupid queen gave back Scotland," her husband replied. "I knew he should never have married her. A good Frenchwoman would have been better or even a German!"

Duke Beaton resisted the urge to roll his eyes, planting a fake smile at the couple. "Excuse me, pardon my intrusion. I heard that you are inquisitive of the King's audience request?"

"Yes," the man said. "And you are?"

"Matthias," Beaton said, shaking the man's hand. "Emmanuel Matthias."

"Oh," the wife said flirtily. "A Swede?"

Beaton nodded. "I had come in the hopes of different scenery. I invest in the timber trade."

"Timber is a good trade. I might have to talk more about that with you," the man replied, seeing Francis enter with Bash and Leith behind him and a few guards.

Robert frowned deeply. Despite the neutral look on Francis's face, he could clearly see the tiredness, worry and fear in his eyes. He hoped that he was the only one to see that, especially as his son-in-law gave his brother a comforting glance quickly when they turned to face the crowd.

"I know most of you are not happy with recent events. My wife has taken a trip to Sweden on business matters on my behalf," Francis announced. "I asked that she go to Sweden in my place so I can assure you about Scotland."

"I swear..." The noblewoman muttered. "If he says one false lie-"

"Scotland is and will remain independent from France," Francis announced, somewhat quiet.

Outcry and uproar filled the room, Francis visibly flinching and paling.

"It is for a good cause! For harmony, for stronger allies," he tried to explain. "England-"

"Down with the Scots! Down with the Valoises! Weak, the lot of them!"

Bash placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to move forward but he was stopped by Francis who shook his head, They couldn't fight, nor defend themselves.

The room was silenced by the sound of a single person applauding as they entered the room with a smirk.

"Oh dear, what have you got yourself into, Your Majesty?" Antoine asked, folding his hands behind his back. "I think it is time for a change. Do you all think so too?"

"Yes!"

"I do!"

"What is it? Is it losing another throne or what?"

Antoine shrugged, raising his hands up in defence. "For years, the Valois family have looked down on us as if we were the scum of the Earth. Today, that changes. Today, everyone... is the end of their reign."


	38. An Impatient Queen

**Replies to reviews:**

**BlerBlerBler [chapter 37]: Turns out Luc was as cunning as the other Narcisses were.**

**Guest (1) [chapter 37]: Here's the next chapter!**

**elder441 [chapter 37]: Mary owes a lot to Francis at this point. She's risking his life for her country's needs. It sadly doesn't get better for Claude.**

**Guest (2) [chapter 37]: Yeah, my heart breaks for Francis! And Kenna, she's honestly the best person for the role, protecting her family. Bash will never throw Francis to the lions because he's been protecting him since they were kids. I loved Leith's return as well! It seemed fitting since he and Francis became good friends. **

**Guest (3) [chapter 37]: Not spoiling anything regarding what comes next! ;)**

****Guest (4) [chapter 37]: ;)****

* * *

Unfortunately, for the Queen of Scots, Scotland was not a welcome sight. She tentatively got out of the carriage and entered Castle Barton first, guards flanking her every side.

She had no reason to fear anything, not when she gave her subjects what they wanted, their loyalty to her increasing by the day as nobles sent her gifts of appreciation. It was all in vain, her husband now suffering at the hands of his own country because of her actions.

"Your Majesty, crop yield has decreased-"

Mary raised a hand to silence one of her advisors based in Scotland. She slowly turned to him. "Not right now," she snapped. "If you have any matters for me to attend to, at least do so _after_ I have eaten and rested from my stressful journey. In fact, run me a bath."

"M-Me?" The nobleman asked in surprise, looking around.

"Yes, you," she said. "Run along."

The man nodded in confusion, running off to get her bath sorted out. Mary sighed heavily, cursing herself mentally for her short patience and temper. She turned when she heard footsteps walk towards her.

"Cousin Robert," she muttered. "Are the children settled? I couldn't stand another nursery rhyme."

"The carriage ride was full of them," he said lightly. "They are confused, upset and obviously miss their fathers. And mother..."

"What plan is this?" Mary asked, starting to continue to walk to the elder Robert's offices. "Kenna could get herself killed. This could get our husbands killed!"

"If they do not stick to the plan," Robert assured her. "I am sure your husband is very smart. He knows what is best for him if he wants to see his family again."

Mary bit back a sob. "What if we fail and France is lost forever?"

"The Scottish people hate the French. Except your children and you, of course. They won't be too approving should Francis permanently be Consort and rule Scotland in your stead," Robert explained. "We are in times that men rule and women bear heirs. But you have your people's support, he doesn't. They see him as a conqueror and his brother, a usurper. There is no easy way out of this without someone getting scathed."

Mary placed her hands on her bump. "I just want him with me. France or Scotland or somewhere else! Sometimes, I wish we were just normal people. No politics or crowns, just two people in love who have children they love just as much. Why did my father have to die?"

She started to sob and she stepped forward to hug her cousin tightly, her tears soaking his cloak. It wasn't Francis's arms around her, but she was thankful for the comfort. She just needed to feel like a child for once, someone comforted by another by the touch of a warm hug and a kiss on the top of her head.

She only had the hug though and her cousin's reassuring words that her husband would prevail once again in the near future.

...

Claude's eyes widened when she witnessed her brothers being led away by Francis's own guards. She shook her head in disbelief, pushing through the nobles in time to catch the blonde's wide eyes.

"Francis!"

"Claude, get back," he warned her, but she stopped in front of them, head held high.

She eyed the guards that held her brothers and Leith cooly. "What do you think you are doing?!"

"Control your wife, Luc," Antoine snapped.

"You are guards loyal to the _Valoises_. If my mother was here-"

"Your mother isn't here," Luc snapped at her, pulling her arm back into the crowd.

She pulled away, angrily staring him down. "How dare you?"

"Would you like to join them Lady Narcisse?" Antoine asked, crossing his arms as he stood before her.

Claude stood her ground. "Release them. You are making a mistake."

"Is this because one of them is your lover?" Luc asked her. "Or shall I rephrase? _Two_ of them?"

Claude faltered, visibly paling as she saw Bash's eyes begging her to stand back. "We were kids. I am not ashamed," she said firmly. "Release them or I will have the wrath of the de Medicis on you all!"

"Oh, Claude," Antoine breathed out, ashamed. "This will not remove your sins from your part in the Princess's and Earl's kidnapping."

"What?" Francis asked, turning to her in horror.

"Francis, Bash! I-"

"It was you?" Bash asked her. "You... My son was beaten!"

Claude's tears started to slide her cheeks as she begged them. "I didn't know. I... Luc read my letters to you, the ones I sent to Scotland. I never meant-"

"They impaled our nephew with an arrow and your excuse is '_I didn't know'_?" Francis asked, shaking his head. "I knew you resented us all, but not this much, little sister."

The guards continued to walk away, pushing the men forward as Claude dropped to her knees, sobs escaping her lips. She angrily looked up at her husband and glared at him.

"Arrest me too. You said it was the end of the Valoises. I will _never_ be a Narcisse! I am and will always be a Valois!" She screamed at him. "You and I are _done_."

...

Kenna tensed up when she felt arms wrap around her waist. She relaxed, the tensity still in her heart as she turned her head to the side to meet Antoine's eyes.

"It's done."

"What is?" She asked breathily.

"As of now, France's ruler is in jail with his radicals."

Kenna nodded. "And what will happen next? Who will become the next King of France?"

"Who do you think?" Antoine whispered, resting his chin on her shoulder. "What strong contenders of blood and politics do you know?"

His lips connected with her neck and she gasped, trying to feign a lustful emotion. She couldn't, tears stinging her eyes as Antoine became harsher in his moves, almost ripping her dress down from her body.

She closed her eyes tightly, memories of Henry's touch all over her body. She tried to think about Bash instead, willing her brain to believe that they were performing rough bedroom antics, but she couldn't.

She squealed when Antoine groped her arse and she quickly turned, stopping him.

"T-The guards... They were talking about me," she said, swallowing deeply. "Rude things. I daren't say-"

"What did they say?" Antoine demanded, readying his sword.

"Oh, it's nothing I haven't heard before. I just remembered those words and... I'm sorry, I can't love you without hearing those words... Calling me _whore_ and _slut_. They say things about my past - bedding the king and his bastard son. Antoine... I'm so sorry."

Antoine sighed, cupping her cheek. "Oh, Kenna. It is fine. You came here to escape the Valoises and the Poitierses. They never treated you with the respect you deserved. Your own queen couldn't protect you when Henry abused you and married you off to his bastard. That is the reason why I will have them beheaded for treason against France next week. They will haunt you no more."

Kenna's eyes widened and she quickly closed them when his lips met hers. Silent tears fell from her cheeks and she pulled away, quickly burrowing her face into Antoine's shoulder.

_God, save my husband_, she begged. _Save Francis, save anyone who has no reason to die except support the true king and his family_. _Please don't make my children fatherless._

This time, she didn't fight or withdraw when her dress slipped down from her hips and Antoine grabbed her by the back of her neck to press a kiss on the side of it. She flinched, glad he couldn't see her reaction.

She had seven days to save Bash, Francis and the whole of France. Seven days to make sure that the Scottish and English armies were exactly where they were needed. She knew that it would happen very quickly, but not this soon. Especially with Antoine's new promise to kill her beloved husband. Not that he knew that she and her husband were still clearly in love, having conceived their third child weeks earlier.

She stopped Antoine's hands and undressed, pulling his head so their lips met. It repulsed her, but she couldn't complain. Not if she wanted to join her husband and brother-in-law in death.

"I need you," she whispered into Antoine's ear.

He pulled back to read her eyes and he smiled. "Shall we take this to my bedchamber?"

She nodded.

...

Mary rubbed her bump, turning to her most trusted men. Her three male cousins, an old friend of her father's and the Duke's, Nostradamus... She had no words, no words of comfort or anything, but she had strength and determination.

"Where are the English army right now?" She asked her eldest cousin, the Marquess.

"Reaching the French borders as we speak," he replied, bowing his head slightly. "Our army hasn't quite reached there."

"Francis will think we've completely abandoned them!" Mary cried out. "Why are ours delayed? This will cause tension with Elizabeth if she believes that we are sending her soldiers to their deaths and keeping ours back!"

Douglas cleared his throat. "Your Majesty, the weather is not on our side. The distance from England to France is far much less than the distance from Scotland to France."

"Shorten the distance!" Mary demanded, rubbing her head. "Your sister lays with the man who wants our husbands dead. If you want her to come home without injury, I would advise you get out there and make sure my armies are doing what I need them to."

"You can't hurry-"

"Are you seriously questioning me?"

Douglas shook his head. "No, Cousin. Of course-"

"You are!" She cried out. "And you will put it down to my being with child. You know what? Get out, I only want those-"

"Who will lie to you and feed you false hope?" Douglas retorted. "Cousin, my _sister_ is there, risking her life and morals in yours and France's names. I want to do everything I can to save her!"

Mary's lips wavered and she nodded shakily. "Yes. I..." She was about to apologise, but queens didn't apologise. "I see your point. Pardon my behaviour."

"Nothing to be pardoned for," Douglas mumbled, looking away. "As I was saying, we can't hurry our forces. It will be a while to even get the canons over the water - our ships are weak."

"I will send a letter to Elizabeth then," she said, calmer than before. "Anything else?"

"Yes," the Marquess said quietly. "My father has written back. Francis, Bash and Leith Bayard were arrested for crimes of treason against France. The plan is obviously in motion but..."

"But?"

"They arrested a pregnant Claude Narcisse," Robert informed her. "And they are all set to be beheaded in seven days time."

She took a sharp breath. "We have people established in French Court. Have them plan an escape to Italy."

"What about Kenna?" Her youngest cousin asked.

"I trust in her to have her side of the plan sorted. She's smart, I do not worry about her."

"Mary-"

Mary felt light-headed, her hand coming up to silence whoever spoke. "Leave me," she demanded. "We will convene tomorrow when we have more information about what is going on."

After they left, Mary sank to the ground in grief, her sobs leaving her body shaking violently. All she wanted was her husband's arms around her, his presence beside her and their children, both here and unborn.

"Come home to me," she breathed out in the air, trying to control her tears. "Don't do anything stupid. Just come home to me..."

...

Kenna swallowed deeply and turned to face Antoine in his bed. She cupped his cheek and pressed a kiss on his lips.

"I apologise. I fell asleep. I must have been more tired than I thought," she told him. She swallowed deeply, her mind straying to her unborn child and their effect on her body. She hoped her bust hadn't flourished just yet. Everything needed to be timed well and precisely.

"It's fine," Antoine said, brushing her hair from her eyes as he hungrily eyed her bare chest. "I enjoyed watching you sleep."

Kenna wanted to push him away, but instead, she slid closer to him and traced his eyebrow with her finger as she said, "I was thinking... Francis should at least get to say 'goodbye' to his children."

"Kenna-"

"I hate the idea of children suffering. They should see their beloved father one last time," she whispered, kissing him deeply before he could say anything. "They were nowhere to be found at Court. Perhaps they followed Mary to Sweden?"

"I should give a dying man one last wish?" Antoine asked her.

She nodded. "Yes, you should. Start off your reign as humble and gracious. The Valoises have ruled for _decades_, it will be a bittersweet end for them."

"You're right," Antoine whispered in slight surprise. "I will push back the day of their deaths and have my soldiers find the Scottish Queen and her heirs. I honestly cannot believe that Scotland abandoned France in her trying times."

"Do you think that Francis's and Mary's marriage was just a front?" Kenna asked coyly.

"Well, she clearly didn't tell her husband about her plans to make Scotland independent from France. She is smart, your sovereign queen," Antoine replied. "Too smart."

"Mary has always taken the smart decision for the better of Scotland," Kenna replied.

"Hmm, right. And what do you think your dear husband's last wish would be?"

Kenna blinked, brushing her finger over his lips. "To see that his wife warned him all this time. I want you and me to be the last thing he has in his mind as his life ends."

Antoine grinned. "Is that right?"

"Announce our marriage to him. There won't be a need for an annulment when I'll be widowed," she quickly said, not quite believing what was coming out of her own mouth.

She needed to delay this as long as possible. Manipulate him into thinking he got her pregnant, that she was his. She couldn't let him kill her husband, she needed enough time for the English and Scottish armies to arrive.

"A good few months, to court and strengthen our love for each other and then when Mary returns with the children to say 'goodbye', I will be there telling Bash that I have already got my next husband. That no tears will be shed at his funeral, not even our children's," she continued.

_Because there will not be a funeral for Bash, no need for tears or sadness. The only funeral to take place will be for Antoine Bourbon and there will definitely not be any tears shed,_ she thought.

Her fingers gripped his chin and she forced her lips onto his, straddling him before his lips trailed down her neck and she kept her composure, willing her body not to throw up all she had eaten inside her.

"It's you and me against the world, Kenna," Antoine said against her skin, leaving red bites.

She choked back a sob.

_Think again, Navarre_.

It will always be her and Bash against the world.

...

Robin whimpered, his eyes clamped shut as visions flashed through his head at unstoppable speeds. He cried out for his parents, but none came to help. The flashes of memories kept on coming, his body going deeper and deeper into slumber.

His brows furrowed when he saw his mother, her eyes downcast as an older man forced her chin to face him. He pressed a kiss onto his mother's lips and the vision ended, leading to one where his parents were seemingly arguing. He heard his mother blaming his father for not being her knight in shining armour but his aunt's.

Then his vision flashed even further in time. His beloved mother was in tears, sad, heartbreaking tears as she gripped onto his father's hands tightly. That same old man was holding them at swordpoint, vows being recited from his father's lips.

Robin gasped awake, turning around in fear and confusion.

"Mama?" He called out, his eyes tearing up. "Papa?"

He jumped when the doors to his bedchamber opened, a guard rushing inside.

"My lord, are you well?"

Robin drew his covers to shield his face away. "Go away!"

"My lord, are you hurt?" The guard asked, taking a step towards him. "What is wrong, my dear boy?"

"I want my parents!"

The guard sighed heavily. "Shall I retrieve one of your uncles?"

"No!"

"Your aunt, the Queen?"

"No!"

"Earl de Poitiers... You see, the world is changing very quickly at the moment. Your parents are working to make the world a better place for you, your sister and your cousins to live in," the guard explained gently. "Are you having night terrors?"

Robin shakily nodded, eyeing the guard. "My mama was upset in them. Scared. Is someone hurting her?"

"I-"

"Is someone hurting my mama?"

The guard shook his head. "I have served your grandfather since your mother was born. From the minute she began walking, we all knew how strong she was. She was an early babe, you see. First to talk, first to walk... No one is hurting your mama because she will more than likely hurt them first."

Robin accepted his answer. "Can you get my aunt, please?"

"Aye, I will. There are two more guards outside to protect you. Don't worry, my lord, no one is hurting you or your parents."

A short while later, Mary finished reading Robin a story. She planted a short kiss on top of his head and brushed his tears away.

"Stop those tears, now, dear child. I speak to your parents," she said, obviously telling a little white lie. "They expect their little hero to be brave."

"I... I saw my mama in my dreams," Robin began quietly. "She was hurt in both of them. They both had this bald, old man. He kissed her in one and then held a sword at her and Papa's way in the other."

Mary gasped. They were clearly memories of Kenna going into the lion's den the first time and her and Bash being forced to wed. She didn't know what to say, but she knew that Robin was smart.

"That man was your grandfather, your papa's and uncle's father. He was very ill and he... he treated your mother and father wrongly. He forced them to do things he shouldn't have and he's gone now," Mary told her nephew.

Robin looked up at her. "Were my parents forced to marry each other?"

"Wh-what?"

"Did they have me... _outside_ of their marriage? Is that why my grandfather was upset? Am I a bastard? Or-"

"Robin!" Mary snapped, quickly apologising. "Yes, your parents were forced to marry each other, but they fell in love. They fell in love and had you to show everyone their love for each other after. Oh, you should have seen them, they were like schoolchildren. They were and _are_ in love. They put the whole world to shame. No, you are not a bastard because your parents were married when they had you. Their little hero."

Robin nodded. "Thank you, Aunt Mary."

"You're welcome. Now, sleep-"

"Why did Mama tell Papa that he was _your_ knight in shining armour and would never be hers?"

Mary froze. Neither of them told their children of anything before their time. Only except for John's situation. But Mary and Bash's relationship prior to their marriages had been kept from all children.

Now, Robin had access to his parents' lives before his time.

"You don't need to know-"

"Does my papa love you?"

Mary cursed. How was this child so clever? So easily able to deduce things beyond his six years?

"No, he doesn't," she said.

Robin looked down. "I saw you and him running away from home in France. You were going to get married-"

"Robert, you need to sleep _now_," Mary snapped.

"Is this why my papa and I went to France without my mama and Ana?"

"Sleep. Now."

She got up before he could ask any more questions. She left, closing the doors behind her and made her way to her bedchamber. The second she closed the doors, she began sobbing.

That's all she did. Pretend and cry. Pretend and cry.

She couldn't believe that he'd ask those questions.

She felt sick and tired. She barely ate and she'd been told that she was looking pale and malnourished. How could she just get on with her life when her husband was in prison? How could she be strong with all of these problems arising?

She rubbed her bump and prayed that everything would work out.


	39. An Assured Queen

**Replies to reviews:**

**BlerBlerBler [chapter 38]: You will just have to see ;) All I can say is that, it won't be smooth.**

**Guest (1) [chapter 38]: So am I! I hope you enjoy the next chapter!**

**Guest (2) [chapter 38]: I'm sad about him too! Here's a little something for you ;)**

**Guest (3) [chapter 38]: Communications between the couple is non-existent, but there will be something little which should aid put Francis's mind to rest.**

**elder441 [chapter 38]: Yes, Kenna and Robin are so brave! Robin knows so much, it scares him and he can sense when his parents are scared because of his pagan abilities, it kind of matures his mind beyond his years. That also scares Mary because the child can practically pull up any secret and memory he can without his will. The Frary story is now up! :)**

**Guest (4) [chapter 38]: Here's a little something for you ;) Here's the next chapter!**

**Guest (5) [chapter 38]: We'll get to see a little bit of that soon. Claude is now a part of this, sadly and she will get treated unfairly for supporting her brothers and former lover. Kenna is smart, she can defend herself hopefully. Mary annoys me as well! I am hoping that there is something redeeming about her. Welcome to the ATEOTB club! New readers are welcome to join in the discussion and ideas! Thanks so much for loving this! And thanks for saying that, you are amazing! :)**

**Guest (6) [chapter 38]: He will ;(**

**Guest (7) [chapter 38]: March ;)**

**Guest (8) [chapter 38]: Here's the next chapter! :)**

**Before I start this chapter, quick thing! I posted Eighteen, my new Frary story set in the modern AU as well as One Day At A Time which is based on true events to an extent and is focused on Kenna, also modern AU. Enjoy them both whenever this isn't updated! :)**

* * *

Catherine downed her goblet, gesturing for the servant to pour her another. She couldn't believe the mess that was happening. Well, she could and she did call it. Sometimes, she hated being right - it was a chore, a blessing and a curse. At this moment, it was a curse.

"This was a bad idea," she said, under her breath. "Pour me more wine."

"It's already full, Your Grace-"

"Pour me _more_," she snapped, rubbing her head.

The servant jumped, quickly pouring out another goblet full before placing it right beside the other one. She turned away and stood by the door, in fear of having something thrown at her. The Dowager Queen had been ruthless lately.

"A visitor, Your Grace," the guard outside announced. "From France."

"Who?" Catherine asked, rolling her eyes. "From what I know, I have no friendly faces in _France_."

The guard stepped aside. "The Duchess of Avon, Kenna de Poitiers, Your Grace."

Catherine's head snapped to the door and she gestured for him to let her inside. "Empty the room!"

The servant rushed out along with a handmaiden who was brushing her hair earlier and did not have the chance to be dismissed. The guard then led Kenna inside and left, closing the door behind him.

"How did you-"

"I told Antoine I needed to source some materials..." Kenna trailed off, taking a seat. "For our wedding."

"Dear God," Catherine muttered, holding a hand to her head. "How deep are you into this?"

"I can't tell you," Kenna mumbled. "Just know that he trusts me."

Catherine pushed the other glass to her guest. "Drink it all."

"I would love to but everything makes me sick."

"I understand," Catherine replied. "If I had to sleep with that _vile_ creature, I would want to vomit a lot. Go on-"

"I'm with child," Kenna cut her off. "It's not Antoine's. I came because I needed someone to talk to and I know that no one will know about my visit to you because you pay them for their discretion."

Catherine nodded slowly. "What do you need?"

"Assurance?" Kenna whispered. "And help, for the next part of the plan."

Catherine stood, pacing the room slowly as she held her wine. "I remember when I was going to be executed. Now, my eldest child is going to be on the chopping block and I have no means to help save him. I can't give you any help, no matter how much I want to."

"You can't let Francis die. Or Bash and Claude for that matter!" Kenna cried out, standing up. "You can help them, help _France_. Influence the nobles, start gaining their support for when Francis takes back France," said Kenna.

"I am Italian. The only link I have to France is my children and two have been arrested already," Catherine told her. "They won't-"

"Oh, Catherine..." Kenna trailed off. "I know what you can do. You've done it when we were in Scotland against England. Gain the support of the Vatican and French nobles."

Catherine warily eyed her. "I will see what I can do."

...

"And there we have it. Month three of our imprisonment," Leith said, drawing a line on the ground. "I'm surprised they didn't shackle us down."

Bash turned to him. "It's not as comfortable as one would think."

"Oh?" Leith teased, closing his eyes. "I thought Mary would be galloping to save us with the Scottish army right behind her."

Francis narrowed his eyes, digging his nails into his palms. "Be quiet, Leith."

Leith's eyes snapped open and he gave Francis a look. "Don't you have faith in your wife?"

"Leith..."

"Isn't she why we've been here for all this time? No word, no way of contact or assurance that everything will turn out as we want?" Leith asked, his mood suddenly changed.

"What do you want me to say? That I'd rather watch my kingdom fall, than trust the word of a Scotsman?" Francis snapped.

Bash frowned. "Francis, think about what you're going to say next."

"Why, Bash?" Francis asked him. "It is because of her that our children do not have their fathers to comfort them. Mary always told me that I was selfish, always acted in France's best interests. But where am I now? In my _own_ prisons! Scotland are free to do what they want, their only link with me is my marriage to their queen. Mary's selfishness is why Scottish aid is not here now."

Bash laughed wryly. "Francis, you've never acted in Scotland's best interests to be fair. Be patient."

"How do you do it?" Francis asked him. "Antoine is probably bedding your wife better than you-"

"Why are you trying to start a fight that you cannot possibly finish?" Bash asked calmly as he stood up to pace their shared cell.

If Antoine's plan was to make them crazy and bite each other's heads off by entrapping them together, it was working well. Bash felt sick to his stomach, suddenly regretting the decision to remain by his brother's side. But then he felt guilty, it was more than duty. Francis was his family.

"I'm sorry, Bash. I never meant to say that," Francis whispered. "I just miss my children. Mary... I don't even know where we stand."

"I know these cells like the back of my hand," Bash said, ignoring the apology. "If I can just find a way out, we'll make our way to the back of the castle, near the waterfront side..."

"And how, pray tell, would we do that?" Leith asked.

Bash turned to give them a knowing smirk. "I trust my wife. There is always time to make many plans in case the first one or two don't quite plan out."

...

"Well?" Mary demanded the second her eyes landed on her cousin.

"Our armies have arrived in France," the Marquess announced. "And my sister wrote."

Mary snatched the open letter from his hand and gasped in relief. "Catherine paid some men to infiltrate the castle as guards," she breathed out. "Kenna's doing?"

"Yes," Robert replied. "Mary, this will all be over soon."

"Yes," Mary whispered. "It will all be over soon, I am sure of it."

Mary sat down on the chaise, rubbing her bump. It was now April, having not seen her husband since last year. Christmastime was a terrible affair, the children bemoaning the lack of their parents and her growing impatience during her pregnancy.

She hissed, biting back a curse when she felt a jolt of pain shoot through her body. "Get the doctor."

"Is it the baby?" Her cousin asked in alarm. "My wife, she's a mid-"

"Get her. If she's a midwife, nurse or a doctor, just get her! And Nostradamus too. It's time," she shakily said, her eyes watering.

This was _not_ how it was meant to be. Francis was meant to be by her side, coaxing her through her labour as they would both welcome their newborn into the world.

She didn't care what it was, as long as it was healthy and safe. She started to sob, hearing the door open and close as she noted that her cousin had left. She breathed through the pain, her experience with three other babes proving fruitful.

Mary couldn't believe it. Her thirdborn had turned one in January and his father hadn't been there. James obviously noticed the lack of fatherly presence and was in a strop all day, refusing to even allow her to comfort him. Then, poor little Anastasia had also turned one by mid-February, neither of her parents there to witness such a big occasion of their child's life.

She let out a cry of pain, getting off the chaise and gently lowering herself onto the ground. She turned, resting her elbows on the chaise as she breathed through her pain, her hair and face becoming wet with sweat.

"Please, God," she cried. "Please, God..."

"Queen Mary!" Nostradamus breathed out, rushing over to her with the midwife. "Do not worry, we are here now."

...

Kenna swallowed deeply, blinking tears away as Antoine whispered gentle words to her bump. She looked at him, each day her hatred for him growing and hardening.

She was relieved though, Catherine's help in securing guards for the castle being successful. She had managed to sneak a few letters down to her beloved husband, telling him about their unborn child and how much she hurt that they couldn't be there for their daughter's first birthday and son.

"Any day now, the Scottish Queen will be found and she and her children will be dragged to wish their beloved husband and father 'goodbye'," Antoine told her, caressing her cheek. "Then, we will announce our marriage before he and his brother and sister die. Our child will be legitimate."

Kenna smiled. "I can't wait," she breathed out. "You should get going. The Pope doesn't like to wait."

"No, he does not," Antoine said, laughing.

Her eyes watched as he got out of the bed and put his boots on. He planted a kiss on her lips and left.

She waited a while, getting out of the bed to see Antoine's carriage leave out the gates through the window and she sighed in relief. She left the bedchamber with a cloak on and headed down to the prisons.

Before now, Kenna had not had the chance to see Bash, Francis and Claude, Antoine always breathing down her neck or something or another. She placed a few coins into the guard's hand and he let her through, her first stop being with Claude.

"Claude!" Kenna whisper-yelled, her hands gripping onto the steel bars.

Claude looked up, quickly heading over and holding Kenna's hands. "Kenna. I am so glad to see you. I know we haven't ever been close but-"

"Enough of that," Kenna whispered, digging into her pockets. "Some food. It's not much, but it should help you gather up some strength."

"For what?"

"This is nearly over," Kenna told her. "Just be alert."

Claude choked back a sob. "Thank you. Have you seen my son? They took him... He must be at least a month or two by now?"

"He is being well looked after," Kenna replied. "I personally see to him."

"I named him after Francis - I hope he can forgive me," Claude cried. "Him and Bash."

"Why would they need to forgive you for? You were protecting them-"

"You don't know?" Claude asked in confusion.

Kenna shook her head. "Know what?"

"Luc got the whereabouts of the children from my letters to Francis and Bash. It's my fault that Rose and Robin were kidnapped - Kenna, I am so sorry!"

"It's not your fault," Kenna quickly said. "Luc is a snake. I will make sure that Francis and Bash understand. Not now, we don't have that much time. Take care."

"Lawrence," Claude quickly said. "My son's name. Lawrence Francis _Valois_."

Kenna beamed, getting up. "A strong name for a strong boy. I will see you soon."

She moved on, heading further down the prisons. She went up the stairs, knowing that Antoine had a flair for the dramatics and kept his worst enemies at the top of the tower. The tower that looked a lot like the one Mary and Catherine were locked up in for various reasons.

Kenna placed a few more coins than the last time into this new guard's hand and he opened the door for her, Kenna stepping inside and greeting the inhabitants with a proud smile.

"I can assure you that everything is now back on track," she told them, going over to hug Bash tightly and kiss him. "I'm glad you got my letters."

He nodded, placing a hand on her bump. "Does he hurt you?"

"No," she breathed out, eyeing Francis. "The weather wasn't on our side, our armies were delayed and the English had to wait. The English were almost discovered so we had to keep them by the coast to avoid detection. Francis, your mother helped immensely. Without her, we wouldn't have guards on _our_ side. They're Italian. My father has a few Scotsmen positioned around and my brother is leading the Scottish army."

Francis crossed his arms. "And Mary?"

"She would have had the baby by now. I haven't received word back from her in a while. It wasn't that long ago that I sent my own letter to her," Kenna replied honestly. "Her letters are full of grief and longing. She tells me to assure you that France will have her day and you will have a fair trial."

"So, I am still to be beheaded for treason?"

"It won't get that far," Kenna replied. "The day is getting closer. Antoine grows restless looking for her and he wants to announce our marriage before the baby comes. The armies will infiltrate the palace and put a stop to the trial before anything happens. I am also putting into motion a plan to have you all escape before the ceremony starts, but it's coming up unfruitful. Don't worry, is all I can tell you."

She retrieved a basket full of food hidden by her cloak and gave them its contents, taking back the basket. She cupped Francis's cheek and rubbed it, searching his eyes. She knew he was hurt, she knew that her country was to blame for this, but he had to be patient and trust Scotland.

"Francis, Mary loves you. She loves you so much, don't hate her," Kenna begged him. She let go of his cheek and hugged Bash one last time. "And as for you, whenever Antoine is not near, I tell our child about you and I feel butterflies. They love you so much, don't forget that."

She turned around and headed back outside. Just before the guard closed the door, she stopped him, giving the three men a comforting, assuring smile.

"It's nearly over," she promised them. "I will see you again soon."


	40. A Heartbroken Queen

**Replies to reviews:**

**Guest (1) [chapter 39]: Mary and the children will be in France ;)**

**Guest (2) [chapter 39]: He is ;(**

**Guest (3) [chapter 39]: I can't either ;( His hope is going as the days pass by and even at this point, no one can convince him otherwise. And they would be so terrible, almost unrecognisable!**

****Guest (4) [chapter 39]: The first part is for you ;(****

****This is a long chapter because I think we all deserve it after everything. I am leaving some parts for the next chapter though.****

**Quick thing, the twins were born on the first of April. It is explained below as Mary was meant to have them mid-March.**

* * *

Mary looked up to see one of the doors to her bedchamber open. She knew what that meant - children never had the need to ask permission before entering any room. She ought to teach them some manners, especially as her patience was running thin these days.

"Mama?" Anne whispered, her red eyes landing on the bed. "Is the baby here?"

Mary sighed, she couldn't let them wait. "Come in, _all_ of you."

Anne led the pack, Rose was tiptoeing for some reason behind her sister with Robin behind her, closing the door behind them. Their eyes landed on _two_ cots and their eyes widened, Mary's lips quirking upwards as they did the maths in their little brains.

"Two?" Anne cried out. "You promised one!"

"I got more than I bargained for," Mary told them lightly, reaching over to cup her daughters' cheeks. "Papa and I do not love you and James any less."

Rose stepped out of her touch, tears slipping down her cheeks as she looked at one of the sleeping babies. "I miss him."

"We both do," Anne said, hugging her sister tightly. "You never see us, Mama. Papa always made time for us in France. Why isn't he here with us?"

"He is very busy and he told us that we should go back to Scotland for a while, just so he can focus on what's going on in France. He loves you _all_ very much," Mary replied. "You girls are such a good distraction that he literally needs to be a country apart to make sure that France is getting the attention she deserves. But soon, we'll be reunited."

Her eyes met Robin's and she faltered. The boy didn't seem to believe her one bit. In fact, he silently walked over to his cousins and assured them himself. It stung Mary. Did Robin blame her? She blamed herself, she was only trying to do what was right for _her_ country. At times, she was sick of France and everything they took from Scotland and now, her people hated her husband and his own people despised him in turn.

"Robin?" She called out.

"Are they girls or boys or one of each?" His voice asked her, his eyes flickering to her eyes.

Mary smiled a little. "Boys. Twin boys, children. Do you have any name suggestions? I'd like to wait for Papa but we could consider one of your options."

Mary was taken back when Anne glared at her. Her daughter had never acted in such a way, her annoyance playful or arguments light. Mary's mouth opened to scold her for her behaviour, but she found that she couldn't. She clamped her mouth shut and turned away, tears stinging her eyes.

"Come, Rose and Robin. I'm sick of seeing these new babies and Mama's lies," Anne said, huffing as she more or less stomped her way out.

"She misses Papa," Rose told their mother quietly, getting on the bed to hug her tightly. "I'm sorry, Mama."

Mary nodded, closing her eyes as she felt her daughter's warm embrace. "We all miss Papa, don't worry. And your aunt and uncle, of course."

Her eyes opened and she noted that Robin had gone after Anne. Sighing heavily, she continued to hold her second child tightly, thankful for the comfort from the likeness of her husband. If it wasn't Francis, Rose would suffice for now, not that she needed to be sufficed.

"You're just like your father," Mary whispered into Rose's hair. "So strong, resilient, caring and understanding."

She hoped that Francis would be understanding. Her diary entry for the day was full of wet splotches and promises.

_'...I profusely apologise, my love. Nothing can ever make up for what I did to you and our family... Scotland is yours... Forgive me... We'll be a family once again, very soon... I love you, Francis. I miss you. I need you... It's all my fault... I loathe myself-'_

The governess had come inside when she got to the last line and then Nostradamus had followed after, to check up on the Scottish Queen and her new babies. She quickly closed the diary and kept it on her person until they left and she sobbed over it.

"I want Papa back. It's been too long since we have seen him!" Rose told her, pulling away to meet her eyes. "He missed Christmas! He never misses Christmas! And James and Ana's first birthdays! Mama, I... want to go home."

"Rose-"

"Scotland is _not_ our home! France is! We are not Scottish, we are _French_," Rose snapped.

Mary gasped. Her daughter had just renounced her Scottish side. Mary could definitely tell that Rose was Francis's daughter, Beneath the tender-heart, was extreme wrath of anger beneath it. They could easily turn, some mistaking kindness for impatience. It scared the queen, her heart, breaking even more.

"Rose-"

"You are the queen! You can take us back home!"

Mary blinked. "I-I can't."

"Then, I hate you!" Rose screamed at her, getting off the bed and running out the door, forgoing closing it behind her.

Mary covered her mouth in shock. She couldn't believe her ears. Those blue eyes staring at her as they said those horrid words.

Rose ran, heading to her sister's bedchamber. She found Anne and Robin crying on the bed and she walked up to them, head held up firmly.

"Pack some clothes. We are going home," she announced.

"Did Mama-"

"_We're escaping_, Anne," Rose told them. "Be quick! Before the sky goes dark."

Robin frowned. "How would we get home?"

"We have our ponies and horse," Rose said. "You know your way around these woods, you can lead us to the sea and then we'll sneak onto a boat that goes to France. We will see our papas and your mama, Robin!"

Robin nodded. "I'll get some food!"

"Good. Now we will meet back here in an hour."

...

"You shouldn't have done that," Francis breathed out, cleaning up his brother's wound as best as he could. "I could have taken it."

Bash chuckled wryly. "You? You're practically all skin and bones. I've actually learnt how to survive without the lack of decent sustenance," he replied, letting out a groan. "Haven't learnt how to stop feeling the pain though."

"I thought you would. After Delphine..." Francis said, trailing off. "Sorry. I didn't mean to bring her up."

Leith got up from his seat and took over in patching Bash up. "I love how they gave us supplies to tend to the wound they caused!"

Francis laughed a somewhat genuine laugh. "Seriously?"

"Was that sarcastic enough?" Leith asked, coughing slightly.

"_Dripping_," Bash mumbled. "I'm scared."

"What?" Leith asked him. "You? You've been at death's door many times-"

"When I was childless," Bash replied, turning to Francis. "Do you think we will see them again?"

Francis sighed. "Here I thought you were the optimistic one."

"Sometimes I'm mistaken," Bash whispered. "Seeing Kenna... it made me believe that sometimes things don't always go to plan."

"Bash-"

"She lied to me."

"What?" Leith frowned. "When?"

Bash rubbed his face weakly. "I asked her if Antoine hurt her. Her reply was... it unnerved me. It was short and she moved on quickly. I am not sure if she did that to stop me from trying to escape to help her or to protect me from realising just how deep she is into this."

"She seemed well cared for," Francis assured him. "I doubt Antoine would dare try and hurt the mother of his supposed heir."

"That didn't stop our father," Bash replied tiredly. "I'm awfully tired."

Francis patted his cheek gently. "Stay awake. The wound is probably infected."

"Who thinks help to save him would be hurried?" Leith asked. "No? I don't think so either. They don't care if Bash dies here or on the block - he's not important."

"Thanks," Bash replied.

Leith chuckled. "I mean you are, just not to the people. Their dear usurper, no tears would be shed from them. Life in Scotland would suit you."

Francis swallowed deeply. "I should have pressed harder for you to go to Scotland," he said. "You wouldn't be here, bleeding out."

"It's not that bad," Bash told him. "I've been through worse. A lot worse."

"And there's your optimism," Leith said lightly.

"Remember the lake in Scotland?" Francis asked, pulling brother to rest on his chest. "Mary was frightened of letting James come into the water. But he loved it. And the girls and boys... We were a family, perfect and happy."

Bash laughed. "That damned book. I think Kenna has it stored somewhere where the children cannot get to it. I hate to think of what they saw."

"What book is this?" Leith asked.

"The sex book."

Leith nodded. "Oh, many men wondered where that book went."

"Were you one of them?" Francis asked, knowingly.

Leith coughed. "Do you really want to know what your sister and I did?"

"Dear God, no," Francis replied with a groan of displeasure.

They looked towards the door when it opened and saw Kenna, holding more supplies. Her eyes widened when she saw her husband and she quickly rushed to their side, looking at the other men for an explanation.

"A guard got a bit too rough on Francis," Leith told her. "Big brother went to save him."

"I didn't need saving," Francis whispered lightly.

"Well, I figured that you would be mistreated," Kenna said quietly. "The guards change around the clock. I only come when they are Italian."

She got to work, pressing a quick kiss on Bash's head before tending to his wound. It didn't faze her, she couldn't let it. Her anger towards Antoine was already enough to not get herself killed.

"I see Claude," she told them. "It wasn't her fault that the children were taken, you do know that?"

Francis nodded stiffly. "I sometimes forget the woman's place in the household. She must have been scared of him."

"Well, their marriage was arranged," Kenna stated. "Perhaps if it was forced, they would have got on better."

Bash laughed and she giggled, brushing some grime of his cheek. She missed him and he missed her. Sadly, they couldn't be alone and Kenna didn't want to tempt things.

"I heard back from Mary," she continued. "She had _twins_. Boys. Nameless until their father sees them."

"What?" Francis breathed out. "Was she alone?"

"Not at all," Kenna said. "Also, the children were spotted escaping the castle grounds. Our son, Bash, is very mischievous."

"Why were they leaving?" Bash asked.

Kenna smiled sadly. "They miss us," she said. turning to Francis. "Mary's coming with them. Apparently, Rose said some hurtful things to her."

"Am I wrong to have no sympathy for her whatsoever?" Francis asked quietly.

Kenna looked down, finishing up with the stab wound. "Francis, deep down you love Mary. I know her loyalty to you is tested, but we are winning. Our forces are discreetly placed around and when they come, it will all be over and we will be home. A big, happy family as we've always been."

Francis placed a hand on her shoulder and she jumped, wincing. The three men turned to her and she waved it off, handing them the other things she brought them.

"Blankets," she quickly said before someone could question her. "Before our guards leave, they will take it so as to not raise any suspicion. Lucky for you, they are here through the night."

She got up with Francis's help and she hugged him.

"Look after him for me, will you?" She whispered into his ear. "I have to go now."

She pulled back and looked down at Bash. She gave him a wide smile, hoping that it was hopeful and reassuring at least.

"I love you," Kenna told him.

"I love you too," Bash replied easily. It felt like years since he said that but it had only been months. "Kenna-"

"My lady, Navarre has returned," the guard quickly told her.

Kenna gasped and she blew a kiss to her husband, hurrying out as fast as she could. She felt a twinge in her heart and she stopped herself from crying. She hated all the times she had to leave them, their eyes losing all hope once again.

She cursed.

Only a few more days.

...

Kenna got into the bed and sighed heavily, planting on a smile when Antoine entered and walked straight up to her. She raised her chin, 'begging' for a kiss and he accepted her wish, placing his cold lips on her warm ones.

"Why are your lips so cold?"

"You don't need to know-"

"Did you go to the whorehouse?"

Antoine narrowed his eyes. "And that is your concern, why?"

Kenna feigned anger. "My last husband, if you remember, left me for those whores."

Antoine tutted, sitting down by her legs and taking her hands in his. "You don't need to worry about any whore. The only one I prefer is you."

That stung Kenna and she blinked back tears. The only times she could escape her reputation were at her own lands, Avon and her father's lands in Scotland. She knew that Antoine knew it struck a chord in her and she played it off.

"I was thinking about sourcing more materials for my dress in Finland. The baby grows, I need more fitting designs."

"You leave this bedchamber at the most peculiar of times, Kenna," Antoine stated, ignoring her words. "Why is that?"

Kenna swallowed deeply. "I visit Claude."

"Why?"

"To let her know how her child is doing," Kenna mumbled. "I am a mother, myself. I am separated from my son and daughter, I missed my daughter's first birthday. I just wanted to take her mind off her imprisonment. I'm sorry."

Antoine cupped her cheek, his other hand gripping her neck tightly. "Your compassion surprises me. Your son was kidnapped because of her."

"Who ordered his kidnapping in the first place?" Kenna snapped.

She cried out when he squeezed her neck even tighter and said, "That was a warning. He wasn't meant to get hurt."

"I-I b-believe you," Kenna croaked out, breathing heavily when his grip slackened.

"Make those visits stop, Kenna," Antoine told her, getting up. "I wouldn't want to kill the mother of my child, would I now?"

Tears ran down her cheeks and she nodded, already mentally cursing the bruise that would form on her skin once again. At least it wasn't as bad as the ones on her arm and shoulder.

"Rest. You do not want to distress the baby," he told her, tucking her in and placing a kiss on her head. "There is something I need to do."

...

Claude looked up when the door opened and she shielded her eyes from the sudden light. She gasped when she saw Antoine with Luc right behind him. Her husband seemed to be unsettled, looking everywhere but her.

"What do you pathetic monsters want?" She asked angrily, wrapping her arms around her legs and resting her chin on her knees. "Your guards have already mishandled me enough today."

"Kenna de Poitiers," Antoine said simply. "What does she tell you?"

Claude froze. "Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Well, she talks about our children," Claude partially lied. "I begged to see her so she could tell me about my son."

Luc met her eyes. "_My_ son and heir," he told her. "I will tell him his mother died during childbirth."

"You wouldn't-"

"He doesn't know you. When he was born, he didn't even open his eyes to lay them on you," Antoine told her. "Stephane Eduard Narcisse will grow up without ever knowing who the Valoises were."

Claude let out a sob. "His name is _Lawrence Francis Valois_!"

"Your debts are coming to collect, Claude," Antoine taunted, stepping towards her. He turned. "Empty the cells."

Claude looked up at him in confusion. She saw Luc about to leave, but Antoine stopped him.

"W-What are you going to do to me?" Claude whispered. "Kill me now?"

"Oh, no," Antoine said, kneeling before her. "Francis will see you die, your head rolling right in front of him. Then your half-brother's and his little friend he runs about the castle with. Then, I will take your brother's life."

Claude spat at him. "You disgust me-" She was cut off by her head jolting to the side and she held up a hand at her stinging cheek.

"I think I will have a little fun with you first," Antoine told her, bringing her free hand in his and kiss the back of it. "I wonder how a cousin would feel compared to a brother?"

Claude's eyes widened and she screamed, her arms lashing out to stop him from getting any closer. But even her husband's hands held her down and covered her mouth, silencing her screams.

...

Mary halted at the entrance of the castle, frowning deeply. "Elizabeth, why are you here?"

Elizabeth sighed. "I was invited to France," she told Mary, both of them stepping outside. "Antoine wants to make an alliance."

"We can use this to our advantage," Mary replied. "Our armies are there, you can follow me to France."

"The alliance comes _after_ Francis's beheading," Elizabeth explained.

Mary stopped by the carriage. "It won't come to that. Gather up your English convoy and get there before me. I want to delay this as much as possible to get our armies in position."

"Mary-"

"Make sure your English crest is visible at all times. They won't question your armies if you were to make an alliance," Mary cut her off. "I will have my men dress as French soldiers in the meantime."

Elizabeth slowly nodded. "Very well. Before I forget, congratulations on your twins. Have you named them?"

"No," Mary told her. "I want Francis to name them with me."

Elizabeth took her hand and squeezed it. "This is going to plan. Everything will be in our favour."

"Scotland already has a government, but I would like you to join it," Mary said to her.

"A woman in a government?"

"I am a queen," Mary replied lightly.

"So am I," Elizabeth replied. "Not for long, I feel that my illness is plaguing me quicker than I wanted. I have already named you my heir-"

"No, you were meant to name Francis your-"

"_You_ are my cousin," Elizabeth cut her off. "Not him. And your dream of a queen ruling Scotland is beautiful. Women can do the job better than men can. When this is over and France is taken back in the right hands, England and Scotland will unite to be the United Kingdom."

Mary's eyes stung with tears. "My husband must already hate me... Elizabeth, I can't accept."

"Anne will be stronger than France, she can protect France and James," Elizabeth replied. "You did this for Scotland, carry it through. Or else I withdraw my forces."

Mary gasped, her eyes widening. "Elizabeth-"

"It's an easy decision, Cousin," Elizabeth said. "Your daughter is so strong. I have met her, she will be a queen for the ages. No revolutions or uprisings will happen under her reign. She's beautiful, she's loved by everyone and that includes the French. Say 'yes'."

"Yes," Mary breathed out, hugging Elizabeth so the woman couldn't see the dishonesty in her eyes. "Oh, God. Yes."

"Now, let's go to France and get your husband's country back."

...

The minute Kenna's eyes landed on him, she started to cry. Her arms wrapped around him tightly and his words immediately soothed her, his hand rubbing her back. She missed him, seeing him in passing but unable to greet him in case it would blow both their covers.

"Father, he..."

"I know," Robert whispered. "I visited her, I prayed for her. She didn't talk or move."

"It's all my fault," Kenna sobbed. "If I kept quiet about seeing her..."

Robert cupped his daughter's cheeks and stared into her eyes. "Kenna, you can't give up now. I will help Claude. I will visit them all on your behalf. I will explain your lack of presence."

He pressed a kiss on her head and she winced. Her father frowned, pulling her collar down to see the bruise on her neck. His eyes flashed with anger and she began moving, but she stopped him.

"I am fine, Father. Just keep going. It is almost over," Kenna assured him, forcing him to look at her. "It will all be over and I will be in Bash's loving arms again and you will be safe in Scotland once again."

"If he touches you again, I will be the first one to kill him," Robert promised her.

"I am afraid that Bash may have already secured that role," she replied lightly, hugging her father again. "I can't believe I got Claude raped. How he was telling me, so proud of himself. Luc... He held her down and watched! Who does that to their own wife?"

Robert shook his head in disbelief. "A monster as bad as his father before him."

"Not even Stephane was that cruel," Kenna said. "I have to go. But I will try and see you soon."

"Don't. It's dangerous, my darling daughter," Robert replied. "Your brothers are near. Just rest and remember that we are winning."

With one last hug, she returned to Antoine's bedchamber and took off her cloak, putting it away. She got into the bed and closed her eyes, tears stinging them. She couldn't believe how strong she was, being pregnant and being such a secretive vixen towards Antoine.

"Kenna?"

Kenna froze. She sat up and in the faint light of the single candle that was lit, she saw...

"Bash?"

...

Kenna ran her fingers through her husband's beard. It shocked her every time she saw him, but she didn't care about his current appearance, he was still as handsome and gorgeous as the day she first laid eyes on him and believed him to be Francis. His eyes still made her heart flutter with joy.

"So, how did you...?"

"Catherine," he said. "She's here. She came to visit Francis and Antoine made a visit outside of Court."

Kenna nodded, gently soaping his face. She wanted to help Francis and Leith but she figured that Catherine was probably sorting them out. "How long do we have?"

"Not that long," Bash said, stopping her from using the shaving blade. "That would be a little suspicious, wouldn't it?"

She nodded, laughing lightly. "My mind was with the fairies."

Bash's eyes flickered to her exposed neck. "I'll kill him. Forget a sword or a knife, my bare hands would do."

Kenna cupped his cheeks and pressed her lips against his, sighing in relief. "It feels like a rare necessity, our kisses," she whispered, pulling back and leaning her head on his. "I can't..."

"Can't 'what'?"

She began to sob. "I'm scared. I try and give you, Francis, Claude and Leith hope, but I ruin things."

"Kenna-"

"Claude was raped because I told Antoine I visited her to tell her about her son," Kenna whispered, her eyes searching his. "That was selfish of me, to protect myself and I still got hurt."

Bash cupped her cheek. "That wasn't your fault. Claude won't hold that against you."

"Bash... Do you think our daughter remembers us?" She asked quietly. "She must look so different now. She's probably had her first steps and we have missed them."

"Kenna," Bash whispered her name before groaning from his wound. "Don't do that to yourself. We'll see them very soon, I promise you."

"I love you."

"I love _you_," he replied. "I have to go. But thank you for the extra food and light bath."

Kenna gave him a smile. "Remember when I'd bathe you when you came back from fighting the Darkness?"

"You mean getting in yourself and trying to take my mind off the Darkness?" He replied, kissing her. "I don't think I remember we did any bathing at all. Lovemaking, yes."

She snorted, hugging him tightly and playing with the hair on the back of his head. "You are the best man I know. So strong and selfless... You changed me into a better person. You gave me three gifts and you accepted me for who I was."

"Eventually," Bash teased her, pulling away. "I have to go now."

He brushed her hair from her eyes and his finger hovered over her bottom lip. He stared at her, memorising her beauty from top to bottom. He didn't know how he got so lucky to be forced to marry the woman who was perfect for him all along. Who always did things in _his _interests. The good outweighed the bad for them lately.

"Even if we fail, I want the last thing I see to be you," he whispered, tears stinging his eyes. "I'd be at peace."

Kenna furrowed her brows. "Don't talk such nonsense, Bash."

"Promise me though. You've done it once, you can do it again."

"Bash-"

"You've seen one lover die, what's another, wife?" He asked, kissing her softly. "Don't mourn me, you are too spirited to be a depressed widow."

She giggled softly, nodding. "When Penelope took your grandmother's ring from me, I wanted to kill her."

Bash took the ring from underneath his shirt, showing her its place on his heart, around his neck with a piece of string. "You'll get this back from me very soon."

She nodded. "I will," she promised him, kissing him hard. "Go."

She looked away when he stood up from the chaise. She couldn't bear watching him walk away from her. But then again, she wanted to see his handsome face for the last time in a short while.

But she was too late and the secret door closed behind his shadow.

...

As Bash made his way back to the tower prison, he saw Catherine standing, her eyes trained in the cell before her. Moving closer, he saw tears stream down her cheeks and he reached her, turning his head into the cell.

"C-Claude?" He whispered.

She didn't respond, her body across the ground with her eyes open and _still_. Bash entered the cell and inspected her closely. He then swallowed deeply and sighed, closing her eyes and saying a quick prayer.

"They killed my daughter," Catherine whispered in horror. "They killed my daughter!"

"Catherine!" Bash called her. "Be quiet, they'll think something is wrong."

"Something _is_ wrong, Sebastian!" She snapped, staring him down.

Bash sighed, positioning his half-sister's body on the makeshift bed. "We can't do anything. They will find her, alert you in Italy and you will ask for her body to be brought to you. Have one of your people speak on your behalf."

"No, I won't keep my presence in France a secret any longer. I will gather all the French allies I know and we will destroy Navarre and squash his little country to pieces. They took my child's life, I will take one of theirs," Catherine promised him, leaving the prison.

Bash stepped outside to make sure she was gone. When he was certain, he looked back into the cell and saw Claude sitting up.

"What was it that you gave me? I felt as if I was dreaming," she mumbled, rubbing her eyes.

"Don't worry about that. At least we now know that it works," he replied. "The Scots brought it over from Scotland, courtesy of Nostradamus. When the day comes, take it and you will be believed to be dead so you can avoid having your head cut off your body like the rest of us."

Claude sniffled, eyeing him before looking down again. "Bash..." She said, her voice breaking.

"Claude, I am so sorry they did that to you," he said, warily eyeing her. "If you ever need somewhere to live, Kenna and I will be more than happy to have you and Lawrence live with us. Luc will never hurt you again."

Claude's eyes cast down to the ground. "They burnt Avon down to ashes."

"I know," he replied quietly. "I was thinking about taking up lands in Scotland instead."

"And leave Francis and France behind?"

"No, I'll never leave them behind. But I have already put forward a good candidate for my position," Bash told her. "Claude, it would be good to get away from France."

"I guess seeing my niece and nephew every day will not hurt," she said. "I accept. Now, stop my mother before she ruins the plan and gets into more trouble."

He laughed a little, rushing down the halls to find his former stepmother.

Claude rubbed her neck, sighing heavily. She eyed the material she sat on. Maybe death was an escape.

...

"Why did the babies come late?" Anne asked her mother, peeking one's face from his position in the governess's arms.

Mary shrugged. "I suppose it was all my worrying about needing to see your father again. Two weeks is not that bad."

She knew that it was. She had hoped to have her husband be there with her so she tried delaying the inevitable with remedies she'd kept from the time Catherine came to Scotland. She had been surprised to be shooed away with different cocktails of herbs and drinks.

"Mama?" Rose called for her quietly, almost frightened. "I am sorry about what I said."

Mary swallowed deeply. She had been avoiding her youngest daughter, scared of the many similarities she shared with her father. Their anger was very alike and Mary feared that she would hear those same words from her husband's lips.

"_Never_ say that to me again," Mary told her firmly. She needed to be a parent and actually discipline her children instead of cowering away from them as if _she_ was the child. "I am disappointed and deeply hurt by your words."

Rose bowed her head and she leant it against Anne's shoulder, her eyes wandering away to look at the wooden sword her cousin was playing with. It was a moderately big carriage, having space for the queen, four babes and governesses as well as three children. Scotland had been eager to build her a carriage to last and fulfil the number of people she would be travelling with.

Halfway during the journey, she left that carriage and joined the one with her cousin. It was peaceful, both of them riding in silence. In all honesty, Mary didn't know what to say, but then she did.

"Do you think I made the smart decision? To separate Scotland and France?"

"If the French didn't hate us enough already, they sure do so now," was the Marquess's reply before he closed his eyes and seemingly dozed off.

Mary bit her lip, turning to look out the window. She had opened it for some air, but now as the sky became darker, she closed it shut. She didn't need anyone throwing rotten food at her. Food that they needed to eat themselves, they would rather attack her with them.

She sighed, closing her eyes as well. At least it wouldn't be too long until she and Francis were reunited.

...

A week later, the bells rang.

Ten bells in total, Claude counted and her eyes widened. Today was the day. She grabbed the vial and downed it, swallowing it all. She could feel her heart start to slow down and she threw the vial out of the barred window and heard it smash to pieces on the ground. It was dark, but the daylight was enough for her to find her way to the bed and close her eyes.

Not that long to go now.

Upstairs in the tower, Francis's heart sank.

"I don't hear the calvary running, do you?" He sniped.

"Francis-"

"I guess this is 'goodbye'."

Leith was about to speak but the guards came inside and they were not _their_ guards. He swallowed deeply and held out his arms, one immediately binding them together as two walked up to Bash and Francis.

"Are you going to give us grief?" One asked, glaring down at Francis.

"I will remember this day..." Francis trailed off. He wanted to say that he would remember this day when he got France back but he couldn't let them in on that.

"In death?" The other guard asked, amused. "You're no king of mine. You are weaker than your father."

Francis slowly turned to him. "At least I wasn't cruel," he said, feeling the binds on his hand tighten. "What did I do to you? Why did you turn against me so quickly, my own guards and protectors?"

"You made us weak," the guard by Leith said. "With Scotland, we were unbeatable. Now, we are open to attack."

_Wouldn't you like to know_, Francis smiled to himself.

"Behind every great man, is a great woman," Francis said, not sure if he believed his words. "But that doesn't always mean that the man is controlled by puppet strings."

His guard's interest peaked. "The Scottish Queen _doesn't_ control you?"

"Why would you think so?"

"She caused all of this," the second guard said. "Wouldn't you like her to pay for ruining our country?"

Francis's eye twitched. "She's the mother of my children. Her intentions are easily misinterpreted. But I will always do what is best for France, I have always done that. Scotland is not my country to protect, France is and she needs _me_. Not some tyrant who will kill off anyone who ever served me, including their spouses and children. Come back to my side and I will make it worth your while."

The third guard shared wary glances with the other two before saying, "What do you need us to do, Your Majesty?" He asked, kneeling down on one knee.

The other two followed and Francis turned to Bash. "Bring us a priest for our last rites."

...

Elizabeth kept her cool, heading straight to Antoine and taking a sip from her goblet. Her eyes quickly glanced over at his pregnant companion and she could see the unease in the other woman's eyes, wanting to console her and assure her, but she couldn't.

"Antoine Navarre-"

"_Bourbon_. King of France, Antoine Bourbon of House Bourbon," Antoine cut her off, taking her hand and kissing it. "The last time we were in business, things went awry."

Elizabeth nodded politely. "I heard that two children were taken and beaten."

"Not on my orders, I promise you, Elizabeth," Antoine replied. "Those poor children. It is by God's grace they were returned before further harm."

Elizabeth placed a hand on her chest. "It is."

"One of their mothers stands beside me. May I introduce-"

"Duchess Kenna de Poitiers," Elizabeth quickly said. "We are somewhat acquainted - distant cousins."

Antoine blinked. "Oh. Your father's side?"

"Of course," Elizabeth said. "Half, somewhere in the line. English and Scottish ties are very strong. Shame we are at war."

"Yes! I wanted to talk to you about that," Antoine said. "After the glorious show we are having today about the former king's beheading as well as his wayward siblings', we will talk more about uniting England and France against Scotland."

Elizabeth sipped her wine. "Is that so? What is in it for me? You have already broken faith with me."

"An alliance formidable against all alliances," Antoine said. "My future wife will bear you a child. There will be some likeness, you are practically close family already."

Kenna turned to him in shock. "Pardon me?"

"You are good for childbearing. A gift for the Queen of the English, a child and in return, her support for France and an unbreakable alliance," Antoine replied.

"I am not your prized mare," Kenna snapped, gasping when he gripped her wrist tightly.

Elizabeth set her jaw and almost snapped the glass goblet she held in two. "I would appreciate it if my cousin's hand was released."

Antoine let go, turning to Elizabeth. "Take it or leave it. I will know of your decision after I personally behead Francis Valois and his bastard brother."

He left the women, Elizabeth immediately slipping into her corset and retrieving a letter for Kenna.

"Mary is here with the children. They are a few minutes behind, we travelled at different times. But everything is in place," the older woman said. "You do not need to fear anything."

"Are my children safe?" Kenna asked her, accepting the letter.

"They are. They are with Mary as well. I need to go around and converse. I am still a queen after all," she said, leaving Kenna's side.

Kenna snuck outside, heading towards a lit fireplace. It was hot already outside, but Antoine had been paranoid of some sorts. She opened the letter and smiled, tears springing to her eyes. It was a note from her son and he had signed it with his younger sister's name.

Her lips wavered and she willed herself not to cry. Any moment now and it would all be over. She would throw herself into Bash's arms and kiss and hug him hard. They will have their children run up to them and they'll be a family again.

She kissed the letter and threw it to the flames, watching it burn away.

...

"I have had a change of heart," Antoine said, stepping into Claude's cell.

He paused, frowning deeply. He then knelt and saw that she was most certainly dead. He looked around, seeing nothing out of sorts. How could she have died unless...?

"Did you forget to feed the prisoner?!"

"No, my Lo-Your Majesty," the guard quickly said. "Why?"

"She's _dead_," Antoine snapped. "Wrap her body up and throw her in a shallow grave. The foxes will eat her for dinner."

He got back up and left the cells. He still had a change of heart, wanting Francis to die before the rest. He had committed the greatest treason of all. Marrying a queen who only acted in her own country's best interests.

Antoine started to laugh. "Bring the men outside, take your time. I'd like to taunt them a little."

The guard warily eyed him, nodding firmly. "Yes, Your Majesty."

Watching as the false king left, the guard headed back up the stairs. The 'priest' left and he turned to the brothers and their friend.

"Your sister's body is being taken to a shallow grave. We have already prepared a carriage for her and her child to be taken to Italy," the guard said. "What did that man do?"

"That _man_ was my father-in-law," Bash said, wriggling his hands around with the loose binds. "He came to give us a message."

The second guard cleared his throat. "It's time."

The three men were led down the stairs and out of the cells. The past servants and handmaidens who wished them good death and other kind words. They had no reason to hate Francis nor his companions. They always paid them more than they were due, always slipping in even extra for their children and ill relatives.

He still had the workforce on his side.

It was the nobles that controlled the workforce who needed to be convinced, the guards one by one coming back to his side. That had been Catherine's work, and a part of his and the Scottish Duke's.

Now, Francis was starting to gain hope.

On the field, Antoine turned to Mary. "I've made a wonderful front row seat for you and your children," he told her into her ear, making her shiver a little. "I must warn you, he is first. I had contemplated having your past lover and his brother go first, but I thought about my betrothed and how much that would hurt her. She needs a few words with him, you see. Your former lady-in-waiting will be the new Queen of France very soon. A widow very briefly because our child is preparing for his reveal."

Mary turned to him, her eyes bored. "Are you done?"

"Please, sit. You've recently given birth," Antoine said.

She sat down and he did the same beside her. "Antoine, I did what you asked. Why am I here?"

"Kenna suggested for you to say 'goodbye'. I hope your marriage is still somewhat endearing," Antoine replied, patting her hand that rested on the armrest. "Otherwise this would be too painful for everyone. If his queen was to shun him in his death."

"Our marriage is... different," she said.

"Different as in the time you and my late brother slept with each other?" Antoine asked coyly. "And you both spread words about loyalty and commitment. Practice what you preach, Queen of Scots."

"I am still the Queen Consort of France," Mary said to him.

"Not for long," Antoine replied, his grin widening when he saw her husband being led onto the stage. "What a spectacular performance this would be. The last king of House Valois's death."

Mary shakily turned to her husband and tears ran down her cheeks. He looked so unlike himself and that was all down to her. His hair was longer, he had a _beard_. He hated beards, preferring stubble. He looked so lean, so tired and worn out, his blue eyes were no longer joyous or bright.

Mary felt sick. They had kept him in his kingly clothes, long since torn and dirtied and pulled to shreds. She felt Antoine squeeze her hand.

"It must be such a shock," he said to her. "Seeing your husband like this. Are you sure you do not want the children here?"

"I'm sure," Mary whispered.

Antoine nodded, seeing Elizabeth join them and take a seat beside the Scottish Queen. He felt a presence beside him and he gave Kenna a loving smile, placing a hand on her bump.

"My beloved, soon you will be free of that man," he told her, kissing the side of her head.

He stood up and waved over a guard. Mary turned to the guard and saw that her children were right behind him.

She gasped, standing up in fury. "Why are they here?"

"It is the last thing I will grant him," Antoine said matter-of-factly. "The chance to see his children one last time. He hasn't even met two of them."

Mary's eyes found Francis's and she choked back a sob, bringing their children into her body as if she was shielding them. The guard held the twins, one in each arm and Francis swallowed deeply.

It was true, the twins. Boys, they were. He didn't even know he had it in him, but he had noticed that his wife had been bigger and thrown up a lot more than in her previous pregnancies.

"Hurry up and say 'goodbye'," Antoine said, bending down to look into Anne's eyes. "Your father missed you. Now he's going to meet God."

Anne glowered at him, running up to Francis's legs and hugged him tightly. Rose soon followed, holding James's hand. The eldest child noted that her mother was taking her time.

The two unnamed babies were passed onto their mother and Mary finally walked up to her family, her eyes meeting Francis's.

"Forgive me," Mary whispered to him.

"Let's focus on the children," Francis shakily said. "What did you name our sons?"

Mary shook her head. "I wanted you to name them."

This was their moment, no one was going to take it away from them. Her eyes stared at the son that came out first. She smiled at Francis, wanting to touch him but she couldn't.

"How about Henry Peter? Peter to the rest of us," she suggested.

"Fitting," Francis mumbled. "And a Scottish name for... I can't believe we have twins, Mary. Five out of five."

She laughed softly, nodding. "Yes. You got your wish. We're running out of names."

"Stanley Joseph," he whispered. "I was thinking about names for all of these months and it fits him."

He pressed kisses on all of his children's heads and cupped Mary's cheek as best as he could with his restraints. "I forgive you," he whispered, pressing a kiss on her lips.

Mary gasped. The kiss was rough, his lips chapped and broken and dry. But it still brought sparks and fireworks to her body, her body craving his touch and more.

Then he pulled away and she turned, going back to her seat as the governesses quickly came and took the children away.

"I love you," she mouthed to him, hoping she'd see the words return.

But they didn't and Francis was led to the chopping block. Mary closed her eyes, any second now...

"The excitement enthrals me..." Antoine breathed out. "I don't know why I delayed this, this is so very satisfying. To see the men who brought down my House suffer as I end theirs."

Kenna held her breath as she turned to see Antoine's eyes trained securely on Francis. Her eyes met Bash's and she gave him a smile before slowly pulling out her concealed weapon.

Without receiving his attention, Kenna had the knife just a hair's touch from his neck, her lips wet as she licked it in concentration. She slowly stood up and Antoine turned and found her eyes, his eyes flickering between her and the blade.

"Kenna..." He warned.

He looked around as best as he could and he saw that he was surrounded. The guards from earlier handed swords to Francis, Bash and Leith and he began to laugh.

"I see," he said, turning back to Kenna. "Are you intent on using that against the father of your child?"

"No," Kenna said, digging the knife into his neck. "What a shame, it turns out that you are _not_ the father."

Antoine laughed, even more, shaking his head in disappointment. "You've fooled me twice. I guess Henry saw the same thing I saw in you. You are too... _easy_. You're not exciting, more of a burden than a lover."

Kenna saw it coming and she pressing a hand against her husband's chest, her eyes trained on Antoine. "Your Majesty, would you like to do the honours?" She asked, her hand shakily gripping onto Bash's shirt.

Francis walked over. "Antoine Bourbon, you are arrested for acts of treason."

Elizabeth started to clap, downing her wine as she stood. "I expect a grand celebration."

"And you?" Antoine asked, being restrained by the guards. "I thought you hated the Scots and French alike."

"Even cousins make peace," Elizabeth replied, eyeing her nails in disinterest. "Shame yours happen to be more influential than you. Goodbye, Antoine."

After he'd been led away and all his men and allies were rounded up or killed within the minutes they had secured Antoine, Mary joined Francis in their bedchamber.

"Francis-"

"Don't," he quickly said. "Do you know what I have been through this past God knows how many months?!"

Mary's eyes cast down onto the ground. "Francis, I am sorry. Anything you want, I will do."

"You've done enough," he said, wiping his freshly shaven face down. "There is no coming back from this."

"Oh?" Mary asked, laughing humourlessly. "Do you remember when I asked for your help for Scotland and you had me locked away in a tower? Then had _my_ uncle's troops aid in your claim for Calais and not _my_ country?! You have no right to-"

"I did those things for both of our interests," Francis calmly said. "Getting Calais off English hands was going to help us secure England overall! Your claim to England was why we were married in the first place. As for locking you up? You would have got yourself killed and we wouldn't be here with five children, Mary! Wake up and smell the truth."

Mary shook her head in disbelief, turning away from him. "I thought it was you and me against the world."

"Until you destroyed our alliance and made us _both_ weak."

"I _made_ Scotland stronger!" Mary cried out. "And I will make her even stronger than she is now."

"How?"

"You don't need to worry about that. I've _done enough_," she snapped, walking over to the window.

Francis joined her, staring at the bright moon outside. "I didn't know when I was going to see our children again or even meet our new sons. You've destroyed our family."

"I did this _for_ our family," she whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks. "What happens next?"

Francis swallowed deeply. "I... I give my people what they want."

"And that is?"

"You know what that is."

"She's yours," Mary croaked out. "But you don't get England."

She walked away, opening the door and closing it behind her, missing Francis's shocked reaction. She waited until she got to the nursery, dismissed the governess and sat down in between her newborns before letting out sobs.

...

"Bash," Kenna said, hurrying over to him. "I've been looking for you _everywhere_."

Bash stopped her from cupping his cheeks. "I have things to do, but I will find you. Find the children and I will join you all very soon, I promise."

"But you need a bath and a shave. Francis is making his announcement this night," she told him, brushing his hair from his eyes.

"I know," Bash replied. "But there are some things I need to do for him." He eyed Leith. "I swear, I will be with you shortly."

He left his wife's side, missing her crestfallen face as he walked away with Leith hot on his tails. He had managed to retrieve his weapons, custom made for him, as well as a few of his clothes that hadn't been burnt.

He had thanked the handmaidens who had been kind enough to protect their belongings during the siege. He paid them more coin, promising them that any of their jobless relatives and friends would get jobs from him as soon as he could find them some.

He headed down to the cells and ordered the guard to open the door to the tower cell where he'd made his home in for the past long months. He stared at Antoine, watching as the man sighed heavily.

"First Marcus, now me?"

"Marcus was and would always be a mistake," Bash snapped. "You... I will take pleasure in taking your life."

He gave his sword to Leith and took his gloves off. He hadn't killed a man with his bare hands in a long time and now, he couldn't wait. A smile of relief graced his lips when he saw Antoine's face fall.

"Did you feel powerful?" Bash asked, taking a step towards the Spaniard. "Strangling my wife, gripping onto her body tightly than needed? Threatening her? Abusing her?"

"You never deserved her," Antoine spat.

"No, I never did. But I have her and I will always have her no matter how many times she takes you to bed and tells you all the things you want to hear from her," Bash said. "'You and me against the world, Antoine' or 'You were right, Antoine' or 'I need you, Antoine'."

"Stop."

Bash laughed. "And my favourite, 'No tears will be shed at his funeral, not even our children's'."

"She was talking about you," Leith said.

Bash nodded. "No one cares about you, Navarre. You have no children, no lands - your former wife took back her country. I should be calling you _ Bourbon_. No allies to come and save you either because Navarre certainly won't prefer their usurper. I'm relieved France accepted me."

Antoine gulped. "Stay away from me."

"No, I don't think I will."

Even Leith had to look away.


	41. A Lonely Queen

**Replies to reviews:**

**Guest (1) [chapter 40]: Thanks so much! Yes, there will be some tension between Mary and Francis. That will be coming up very soon, Francis's duties to France. Yes, the ending was my favourite too. Love you too! :)**

**elder441 [chapter 40]: There is some tension between the couple, it will take a while until things get better. ;)**

**Guest (2) [chapter 40]: It's all Mary's fault! And loved Elizabeth! More of her down below. :)**

**Guest (3) [chapter 40]: Here's another long chapter! And yes, indeed, thanks haha. I changed it to an axe/chopping block ;)**

**Guest (4) [chapter 40]: This chapter's for you, honey! :)**

**Guest (5) [chapter 40]: Here's the next chapter! :)**

****Sorry for the delay! I had exams and I woke up one morning and threw up everywhere constantly. I had a stomach bug and it felt great. Yep. Great. Haha, anyway I am getting better. I am glad it happened nearer the end of the week so I can rest as much as possible but then exams are again next week so not too much D: Hope you enjoy this chapter!****

* * *

There was no point in going to the announcement, Mary decided. She got dressed into her nightgown after wishing the children 'goodnight' and she ended up in her former bedchamber.

She wasn't sure who was kicking her out. She left their bedchamber with free will, seeing that he probably wanted to avoid her for as long as he could without it being uncomfortable for their children and everyone else.

She shivered, going over to the window to close it. She'd been airing the room out, it hadn't been occupied for a good long while. It was quiet and lonely and cold.

Mary blinked her tears away, looking out the closed window to see people enter the gates for the announcement. It was a sight to be seen, hundreds of heads moving up and down as they came inside with smaller bodies with smaller heads moving up and down. Quite comedic, Mary thought. Also, quite daunting.

"You're not dressed."

Mary turned to face her husband. "I wouldn't want your subjects to hurl more abuse my way. It might deflect on you _again_."

"You're still their queen."

"I stopped being their queen when I put my country before them," she whispered, looking away. "You look better. The handmaidens did good stitch-work."

He cleared his throat. "I did lose a bit of weight."

"I noticed," her quiet reply came.

"I need you there."

"Francis-"

"I can't do this without you. I forgive you, but I..." He took a sharp breath, raising his head to the sky as he tried to find the words. "Don't fully trust you?"

Mary nodded. "I know."

"They want me to put you in line, but-"

"It's impossible," she whispered. "I am a queen in my own right, you were only a prince when we got married. They can't expect you to hold any control over me or my actions."

"I need you to put their mind at rest. To be... I need to be seen as a strong king, Mary. If you are not there, they will question your loyalty and _mine_," Francis said. "Just come."

Mary took a shaky breath. "What will happen to us?"

"We live separately, Mary," he told her. "I'm sorry, but I can't... We can't, not after everything. The children are important and we will always put them first, but you and I..."

"Fine," she breathed out. "If you'll wait outside as I get dressed?"

Strangers. That's what she thought they were acting like. Now, she couldn't bear her husband's eyes on her body because they weren't that. At least not in spirit, but on paper.

"Take your time," Francis said. "Then after, we can tell the children what is happening to our family."

"You mean, tell them that it was all my fault? That I was the reason you were all apart for so long? That you and I are no longer..." She let out a sob, waving him away as she turned around. "Every day, I tried my best to rule Scotland and help you survive. I delayed my labour as long as I could so you could be there. I prayed, fasted, screamed, cried... All for nothing."

"No, it wasn't all for nothing," Francis said. "You got our children home where they belonged and that is all that matters."

She turned to him. "But I don't get _you_."

Francis faltered. "And I don't get _you_. I don't think I ever thought about the implications of marrying you would have. Perhaps I should have married the likes of Olivia or a princess. Someone with equal standing... It was always going to be a disaster uniting two countries together when one had its queen that they were fully loyal to. Mary, you are a just and strong ruler, but sometimes your heart rules your head more than it should. That leads to a whole vast of unnecessary problems that are seldom impossible to fix."

"I will join you when I am done getting dressed," she said, ending their conversation.

She turned away from him and after a while, she heard retreating footsteps and eventually, the opening and closing of the door. She pressed a hand to her heart, the feeling of being unable to breathe bestowed upon her. That turned into a sound which resembled a cry or a scream, she didn't know.

No one came to check on her, so that must have meant that she was quiet enough to wallow in her self pity. She didn't need anyone, the love of her children was enough for her. She'd get Francis back somehow. Now, she had to leave things be. Sit down and shut up had been Catherine's stern advice.

She walked over to her wardrobe and opened it. In front of her was a dress she hadn't worn in _years_. It was red, bold with gold and most of all, it had the English crest on it.

She grabbed the dress.

...

Kenna paced her bedchamber, she hadn't seen Bash in an hour and any minute now, his brother would make his announcement and everything would change. Her fingers itched and she became restless, wanting the day to end and her eyes to close into a deep slumber beside the man she loved.

The door opened and she turned, almost rolling her eyes when she saw that it was only Robin. Of course, he'd be one of the two people to not knock and enter. The owner of the bedchamber himself or the child who was just as impatient as his father.

"Where is he?" Robin asked although he seemed to already know.

"You're supposed to be asleep-"

"I want Papa, Mama," Robin told her, coming to hug her legs tightly. "I want him to read me to bed."

Kenna smiled, playing with his brown hair. "I got your letter. Aunt Elizabeth gave it to me."

Robin gasped happily. "Did you?"

"I did. I missed you so much too, my darling. And I love you so much - you and your sister," she told him, lifting his hand to press against her bump. "And your future sibling."

"It was a surprise seeing you having a baby again," Robin replied sadly. "The last time you did, I wasn't allowed to see you for _weeks_."

"It's different now," Kenna assured him gently. "Now, go to bed-"

Robin scowled. "Story - I want one! I haven't seen either of you in forever."

Kenna giggled. "I know. Tomorrow, Papa and I will read you and Ana three stories. How about that?"

Robin contemplated the idea. "Fine," he agreed. "Make it four."

Kenna gasped softly. "You drive a hard bargain, my sweet."

"Four and two nights to sleep between you," Robin replied.

"Four and _one_ night to sleep between us," his mother said, fully knowing that she and her husband would need some privacy after the long months they had apart.

Robin nodded. "Deal. I will go to bed now," he said, letting go of her legs and going over to the door. He stopped and turned to her. "Papa... he hurt someone who hurt you."

Kenna frowned deeply. "Robin, what do you mean?"

"I had my night terrors again this night. There was this man who... he kissed you and he held your arm too tightly. Not loving like Papa does, but tight and you had bruises," Robin explained. "Then, Papa killed him. I wasn't scared like I am when I see him do things like that... It felt _right_."

Kenna froze. "Go to bed, my darling boy. We will see you in the morning."

Robin beamed and Kenna was unnerved by how at peace he seemed with his father's actions. They knew that it was impossible to keep him away from the harsh, cruel realities of the world, and there had been nothing to help keep the visions at bay, but the fact that her child had accepted death...

"Goodnight, Mama."

"Goodnight, Robert Francis," Kenna's reply came as he finally left.

She wanted to go and find Bash, but she didn't have to. Not when he waltzed right into their bedchamber, locked the door behind him and pressed his lips against hers before she could even act or say something.

She responded, just as desperately before pulling back and holding her hands out to keep him at bay.

"Did you kill Antoine?"

"Kenna, you don't need to worry about-"

"Did. You. Kill. Him?" She asked, meeting his eyes.

Bash swallowed deeply. "He committed treason, Kenna. As King's Deputy, it is my duty to uphold the law. You know that fact," he explained, leaving her side to start undressing. "You have a bath drawn for me. Thank you."

"Bash, promise me that Antoine's blood is the _last_ blood that you'll spill," Kenna said, turning to him.

"Kenna, you know what my duties are-"

"Our son..." She trailed off shakily. "Our son had a vision of you killing Antoine today. And that isn't the scary thing. The scary thing is, is that he felt like violence and killing was _right_. I understand in this situation, need be, but still. We are wanting our children to grow up in a world, where they use words as weapons and not death."

Bash met her eyes in shock. "I don't want our son to become the person I was-_am_. I will speak to him about it. I promise you, he will not pick up another toy sword or a real one. He will never feel the need to take the life of another."

"And as for this being the last time you kill someone?" Kenna whispered nervously.

"I can't promise you that."

"Yes, you can!"

"How?!"

Kenna scoffed. "We leave France behind? Go to Scotland, Claude told me you suggested that as an option. Our lands have been burnt to the ground, there is nothing holding us behind-"

"Kenna, wherever we go, I will still be the same man you know. Long ago, I told you that I lied and I killed," Bash told her, taking her hands. "But that doesn't mean I love you or our children any less. I am what I am, I can't stop being what I am because it doesn't work that way. No matter how much I try."

Kenna looked up at him. "Our son will always have visions. We can't help that fact. But what we can do, is not encourage lies and deceit and death." She gestured to his chest. "You look at yourself. Scars everywhere. They scare _me_. I don't want to be scared."

She dug her face into his chest and sighed, wrapping her arms around his waist. She soon felt arms wrap around her body tightly and she sighed heavily, closing her eyes.

"I promise."

Kenna smiled against his chest, pulling away a little bit so she could see his eyes. "You need a bath, you _stink_. Oh, and a bloody shave because I am not kissing a bird's nest again."

She squealed when she felt his hands tickle her sides.

"Here I thought you missed me."

"I did," she whispered, cupping his cheeks lovingly. "But when you smelt a lot better than you do right now!"

...

"Oh, dear God," Elizabeth said when Mary entered her bedchamber. "It suits you. This will send the French a firm message - Scotland and England united as one-"

"I can't," Mary quickly said, grabbing the wine jug and pouring herself from wine. "I can't be your heir."

Elizabeth sighed. "Mary, we agreed-"

"We agreed and then my husband..." Mary sniffled. "He doesn't trust me. He doesn't even want me anymore. I have fought so hard for him, for our marriage, for everyone to accept us together and for what?"

"I tried my best to find a suitable match," Elizabeth said, sitting down. "To start a family, bear heirs. Neither plan worked out as I wanted. Lonely nights and lonely days as a sick queen... Then, there you were. My subjects already turning their backs on me and hailing you their queen under my nose. Not one, not two but _three_ sons with two daughters. After the start of your marriage was unfruitful."

"I feel trapped," Mary told her. "You're pulling me one way and he's pulling me the other. But with you, I get something out of it. With him, he questions my love and loyalty to him. And he's known me better and longer than you have."

Elizabeth rubbed her head. "I want to speak to your husband."

"Why?"

"Terms and conditions. A place at Court, a comfortable little summer duchy by the coast..." Elizabeth said with a soft smile. "Wear my crest with pride, Cousin. Because you're its new _queen_."

"Elizabeth-"

"One thing I need you to promise me," Elizabeth cut her off.

Mary nodded. "Yes?"

"You overlook proceedings with _me_ anything regarding England and I will help you with Scotland. Your husband will be doing damage control with France, so if his attentions towards Scotland weren't enough, they will certainly be less from now on," Elizabeth explained. "Our fathers would be rolling in their hollow graves, but this is a new dawn for us all. Who knows? My United Kingdom will be a dream for _real_ one day."

Mary allowed herself to smile. "And what a beautiful dream that would be. But not today."

...

Francis couldn't believe it. Although all he wanted to do was to spend all the time in the world with his beloved children, he had to address the Court. He had to let everyone know that he meant business.

He was the king and they had to accept that. His eldest son would be king after him and so on. His line will continue for as long as it could and his legacy will be victorious.

"I can see your eyes."

Francis turned to look up at his brother. "I can see _your_ own."

They shared a smile and Francis sighed, impatiently tapping his fingers on the armrest of the throne. He didn't know where Mary was. She had taken her time and he had got impatient, deciding to go on ahead without her. If she wanted to be petty, she could be petty.

"How is Kenna?" He asked, trying to take his mind off of his marriage.

"Now is not the time to talk about our wives," Bash replied. "I'll need many drinks for that topic. I am too sober to even start."

Francis chuckled. "That bad?"

"As the head of our families, we will always have it that bad," Bash told him. "I made a decision that I am not so sure about now."

"Does it involve Claude leaving for Scotland and not Italy?"

"Francis, I wanted to be the first to let you know-"

"I understand, Bash," Francis said gently. "If I could, I would leave it all behind as well. We will talk after."

Bash nodded. "Wine?"

"Lots of it."

"Good."

Francis stood up when Mary arrived, all eyes turned on her. She walked first, Elizabeth right beside her as Kenna followed behind. Francis could hear the whispers, the shock at how she was wearing the red English dress. Everyone was confused and so was he.

He didn't know what to feel. Relief that she was giving him a claim to England or anger that perhaps it was a statement to reiterate was she told him earlier. That he'd never have England but he will have Scotland.

When she made it to the front, Francis held out a hand for her and she took it. He could feel her hand tremble in his, normally so still and calm and reserved, now nervous and anxious.

Francis helped her up and walked her to her throne. She sat down and he looked away from her, letting go of her hand as he stood before his people. _His_ people. Apparently, they weren't _hers_.

"It is late, I know," he began. "There are so many things I have to say, but I will only pick the most important things. I am and I will never stop being the King of France. You can put so many men on _my_ throne, but they will never serve you the respect, the support, the aid, the connections, the care that I serve you. I swore that I would be better than my father and I tried. I knew naivety wasn't an option, so I became ruthless and I believed that my wife thought the same way..."

As he continued to talk, Mary avoided everyone's gazes. Keeping her eyes firmly trained on the ground before her. She felt lightheaded. She had barely slept these months, barely eaten. Even after having Francis safe and alive, she still couldn't eat much or rest a bit. If not for her nursing her children, being distrustful of mostly every French house help, she wouldn't have eaten much at all.

"...My people, France _and_ Scotland will be united as one, forever and always. Not only that, my wife's claim on England has reached a new conclusion," she heard, her eyes meeting Francis's blues. "England's own queen said it from her lips... England is France's."

She kept her eyes on him and his eyes were trained her as everyone celebrated, berating themselves for even distrusting and rebelling against Francis. Some begged for forgiveness, some offered their children, anything to curry favour with the _real_ king in the room.

And she wasn't getting any praise or attention for helping to secure England. She wasn't even allowed to say anything in fears of premature acceptance. It will take a while, she knew that.

For now, it was enough to put the whole thing to bed and move on.

Francis held his hand out towards her and she gasped.

...

Mary couldn't believe what happened after. It was all a blur to her. The moment the hall dispersed for bed or other things, she and Francis ended up in her bed. She had guessed it was unquenchable lust from their time apart, but what he said next made her whole body fall.

"This doesn't mean anything," he whispered, pushing the sheets off his body. "I guess I missed a few things that people take for granted."

"Like sex?" Mary asked him, resting her head on her hand as she turned on her side to see his back to her. "You'll continue your duty as my husband and bed me, but you won't forgive me or love me?"

Francis sighed. "I forgive you. And I love you. But that doesn't take away what happened. I could forgive you a million times over, but that doesn't change the fact that my people imprisoned me for months and almost killed Bash and Claude."

"Francis-"

"Goodnight, Mary. Although we need to see the children, it is way past midnight and I am tired. I do not have the energy for questions or answers," he cut her off. "Goodnight."

She clicked her tongue. "Goodnight, Francis," she mumbled, turning away as he got dressed and left.

Tears leaked from her eyes and she took a while to herself before she got out of bed and got dressed into a nightgown. It felt lonelier than ever, those lonely nights in Scotland nothing compared to this. Now she had him within reach, but yet he was so far.

Mary didn't even know her legs were moving until she reached the nursery. She opened the door and entered, closing it behind her. Just as she rounded the corner, she stopped.

She heard a voice, a voice that belonged to Francis. But she thought he was going to bed? That he was tired? She didn't dispute it, he had had many restless nights and it must have been a shock to his system returning to a proper bed fit for the most kingly of kings.

Mary blinked back tears when she realised that her other children were there as well, begging numerous stories from their beloved father. Francis yawned, but he never stopped.

She opened the door and left.

...

"I missed you all so much," Francis breathed out, pressing long kisses on Anne and Rose's heads before moving onto James who offered him his teddy. "Oh, James... My little Jaybird."

He accepted the teddy and grinned when James said something along the lines of, "Papa, have."

"I'll cherish it, my boy," he whispered, brushing James's locks away from his eyes. At least the teddy would serve as some comfort rather than his estranged wife or brother and friend.

"Papa," Anne called for him. "I am very glad that we are at home again."

Francis nodded. "I am glad too. So glad that tomorrow, we will go to the lake and to the chapel. We can even visit the local orphanage and donate some clothes and food. Charity starts at home."

He was so thankful, he had decided to take it upon himself to physically make sure that his people were taken care of. He would build houses, he would build churches and orphanages, he would trek down to the local homeless shelters. He would even farm crops with the farmers.

"I have a busy week ahead of me, but you all are welcome to join. Maybe not the boys, but will you and Rose love to spend some time with me?"

Rose nodded, launching herself into his arms. "We would. We love you, Papa!"

"I love you all so much," he replied, bringing Anne into his arms as well and squeezing both girls lovingly. "Right, sleep. You will need to be up bright and early."

"Will Mama come?"

Francis shook his head. "No. Goodnight, my sweets."

He left the nursery, closing his eyes when he turned and rested against the door. He felt like he was weightless, everything aching or dull or barely there. His body didn't feel like it was his and if not for missing his children, he would be in bed.

Gathering as much strength as he could, he made his way up to his bedchamber and entered it. He barely reached the bed before he fell against it and settled into a slumber on the floor beside it. It didn't matter, he'll move when he had enough strength to do so.

"Francis, what on Earth are you doing on the floor?"

Francis groaned, opening his eyes. "Mother."

"Oh, my precious son! Come on, up now," she said, reaching down to help him get up. "Look what that stupid girl caused."

Francis moved away from her grip and settled in the bed himself, closing his eyes once again. He didn't have the energy to listen to his mother or whine about his wife.

"She's not stupid," he mumbled sleepily. "...my wife."

Catherine tutted and nodded. "Fine. I will remain here for the rest of the night. You sleep well, my boy. France is ours again."

...

Kenna almost couldn't believe it. Warm arms were wrapped around her that she actually didn't want to peel off her body or tense up in. She relaxed, smiling softly when she felt her husband bury his face into her shoulder. She took one of his hands and placed it on her bump, sighing wistfully.

"Who would have thought?" He began, kissing her neck. "My wife, the master seductress and manipulator?"

She chuckled wryly. "You already knew that about me. How on Earth would I have got with your father in the first place?"

"Oh?" He asked. "So, everything to do with Henry wasn't real?"

Kenna shrugged. "I don't know. All I know is that one day, things changed and I woke up with more and more bruises and dead people beside me."

"What?"

"That's a story for another night," she mumbled, reaching back to stroke his cheek softly. "I just want to cherish this moment. Breathe it in, to believe in it."

Bash sighed heavily. "What do you think will happen between my brother and Mary?"

Kenna blinked. "Lord knows."

"No matter how many times we tried to convince him, give him hope... This will forever hold them back," Bash said. "I've almost lost Francis many times. Over women, over our father, over our differences in how to go about certain things... I made the decision to stay by his side when he begged me multiple times not to. I made the decision to protect him, and after surviving all of that, he's not happy."

"Marriage is strange," Kenna whispered softly. "You and I know that most of all. Do you think he hates her?"

Bash tensed up, closing his eyes. "He told us that he'd rather have France fall than, trust the word of a Scot."

"Me?"

"Mary."

"Oh, yes," Kenna mumbled. "I see... So he resents her and blames her?"

"Seems that way," Bash said.

Kenna let out a groan. "I can't be here."

"What? Why?" Her husband asked, tightening his grip slightly.

"Mary's all alone. She probably believes she has no allies here. I have to comfort her," Kenna told him. "France is only home to us because of you, Francis and the children. Without either of you, even a queen can get lonely."

She sat up, pressing a kiss on his lips before retrieving her dressing gown and velvet slippers.

"I will see you tomorrow morning. Robin wants a morning ride, so you will take him on that," she informed him. "Goodnight, Bash."

"Sleep well, Wife," Bash replied, sending her a smile. "And let Mary know that even though I have to choose Francis over her, I am still her friend if she needs to talk to someone."

Kenna nodded. "I will."

...

It took a while, but Kenna found Mary outside. She didn't know what the woman was thinking, sitting in the middle of the gardens at this late time. She knew that Mary was hurt and without a word, she lowered herself onto the ground and brought Mary's head to her lap.

Mary sniffled, wiping her fallen tears as she made herself semi-comfortable on Kenna's warm legs. "We... We had sex."

"Oh?"

"Then he left."

"Oh."

Mary nodded stiffly. "He hates me, Kenna."

Kenna started to plait Mary's hair, shrugging. "I'm so sorry."

"I don't know what I can do to get him back. He wouldn't even look at me as we..."

"Francis is-" Kenna stopped herself, feeling something flutter in her stomach. She smiled softly, taking Mary's hand and pressing it against the small bulge. "Do you feel that? Your future niece or nephew is trying to make you feel better, Your Majesty."

Mary beamed through her tears. "I really am happy for you and Bash. It must have been awful for you, being with Antoine with the risk of him finding out... Kenna, I've not stopped and thanked you for all that you've done-"

"There's no need," Kenna said. "Trust me. I guess there's something I should tell you. I wouldn't want you to hear this from someone else."

Mary nodded slowly. "Tell me."

"Bash and I are contemplating starting a new life in Scotland with the children."

Mary began to shake and she quickly laid her head back down on Kenna's lap. "That's wonderful," she shakily said, tears streaming down her face. One more ally to leave her.

Catherine was right. Who needed friends when you had a crown?

But Mary did.

"I'm happy for you both," Mary whispered. "When are you leaving?"

"Not any time soon," Kenna quickly said. "We need to get our affairs in order. Avon... We might start rebuilding soon. Our mines are still active as well as other trades that Bash invested our money in. Claude and Lawrence will be coming to Scotland."

"Kenna-"

"Mary, if you need me, tell me."

Mary shook her head. "I don't need you."

Kenna looked down at her, clearly seeing the tears. "Then, we'll be saying 'goodbye' soon."

"Indeed."

"Mary... I'm sorry-"

"Can we enjoy the silence please?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," Kenna mumbled sadly.

...

The next morning, Mary gave Francis a meek smile when his eyes slowly opened. She blushed when he gave her a small smile back before he dug his face into his pillow and sighed heavily into it.

"Are the children ready to burst through the doors?" He asked knowingly.

"Yes, but I asked if they could give me a short while to speak to you," she replied, taking a seat on the bed by his feet. "Kenna and Bash."

"What about them?"

Mary swallowed deeply. "Their role in securing France again, most of all, Kenna's. I believe they deserve something."

"They do," Francis agreed. "I was thinking about giving them better titles."

"Better titles?" Mary asked, confused. "There is nothing higher than a _duke_ or a _duchess_ which they already are."

Francis turned to her. "I've spoken with the Pope. Archduke and archduchess or even _prince _and_ princess_? Bash may be a bastard, but he is still of royal blood. I have discussed that with the Pope. It doesn't mean that he will be in the line of succession, it would be just as a formality or a reward."

"A courtesy," Mary added.

"Yes," Francis said. "What do you think?"

Mary was shocked. "What do _I_ think?"

"You are my queen."

She faltered. "I believe that Bash and Kenna deserve everything we have to offer."

"Then it is done. Perhaps this could convince them to remain in France... It would be sad to see them leave for Scotland," Francis said, getting out of his bed. "Don't you think?"

Mary nodded. "I was just thinking about how Kenna would go and I'd have no friends left at Court with Lola back in Italy with John and Greer still sorting out her affairs with Aloysius and their secret lives away from danger..."

"I will also personally see to their lands being rebuilt. As for the Castleroys, I will have men on that immediately on clearing Aloysius's name," Francis told her, putting a shirt on. "I have things to do but we can discuss this some more, later."

"Yes, of course."

She rose from her seat and watched as he opened the door, immediately lifting both girls into his arms. She laughed, smiling happily when their daughters kissed his cheeks and he finally placed them back down onto the ground to offer them his hands.

"Lead me away, Your Highnesses!" He told them before he was pulled away from the bedchamber.

Mary walked over to the door and smiled at the sight of Francis laughing along with their daughters. All of her familial relationships had been strained, but she was glad that the love the children had for their father had not lessened over the months. She was happy for them, happy for her husband even.

Her eyes landed on the Scottish Duke as he gave the king and princesses a wide smile and a bow before continuing on his way over to her. He bowed his head in a greeting and gave her a sad smile.

"Here is where I bid you, 'adieu'," he told her. "The Marquess had to leave before the sun came up."

_Another one leaves_, Mary thought. "Uncle, I thank you for everything."

"I didn't do-"

"You did a lot," Mary said softly. "I wish I could call Scotland home, but I am probably my people's most hated at the moment."

Robert sighed heavily. "You are our queen. Every decision you make is for the better of our country."

"Even reversing on a decision I made to make them happy?" Mary asked. "I highly doubt I would be very favoured. I should expect rotten food coming my way for years to come. At least England is a new start."

"I will overlook matters on your behalf," Robert promised her. "Mary, everything will turn out fine. Time is all we can give ourselves when faced with such woes. The French King loves you, he just has to settle back into life at Court before he can make things work with you."

Mary shrugged. "I doubt that," she said quietly. "Do not let me hold you any longer. I am sure that Kenna wishes to see you as well as the children and Bash. In fact, aren't they preparing to leave for Scotland?"

"It's the first I have heard of it," Robert said honestly. "I would not mind. All of my family are welcome at Castle Barton. That includes you and the children."

Mary swallowed deeply. "I may have to take you up on your offer a few times. For now, the break is welcomed," she replied, blinking back tears. "Uncle?"

"Yes?"

"Look after yourself."

"I will."

"Don't go sneaking into foreign Courts and masquerading as foreign nobles," she continued lightly. "Your covert days are over."

The Duke chuckled. "They are, indeed. Wasn't it exciting?"

"A little bit," Mary replied, smiling softly. It had felt right, ruling her country from the front line. "Goodbye."

"Goodbye, Mary. You will _always_ be our Queen of Scots," Robert told her fondly before walking away.

Mary bowed her head. But she didn't have Scotland anymore.

...

"Uncle Bash!"

Francis almost tripped when Anne pulled at his hand, running towards her uncle with Francis stumbling behind her. They had ticked off a lot of things on their list and next was the stables, the girls desperate to see their beloved horses and ponies.

Bash looked up from his horse and gave the girls a bright smile. "I knew I sensed an air of authority and excitement around me. Overruling your father, are you?"

Anne nodded proudly. "We swam in the lake this morning!"

"And visited the orphanage," Rose added. "I gave them my teddies."

"We are big girls now. We do not need _teddies_," Anne said as if the stuffed toys were scandalous. "What else did we do, Papa? Can we tell Uncle Bash _all_ about them?"

Francis chuckled. "Of course. But I think he is busy. Aren't you busy, Bash?"

Bash caught on. "Very busy, girls. I also have to source some pomegranates for your aunt. I can't find any around so, I might have to travel a good way away from here for them."

"Awh," Rose tutted. "But we also wanted you and Papa to have another race!"

"I think we are too old for horse races," Francis said, scratching the back of his head. "But we will see him at dinner."

"Yes, you will," Bash said, leading his horse away. "Try and not exhaust your father, girls!"

Francis scowled before planting on a bright smile for his daughters. "What is next on our list?"

"The chapel!" Anne told him. "I want to pray to God. I want to thank God for bringing us home and seeing you again, Papa."

Francis smiled happily, pressing long kisses on both of their heads. "I want to thank Him too."

They got back to the castle an hour before dinner. Francis had told the girls to wait in the nursery with James and their younger brothers as he went to find Mary.

They will need to handle this as quietly and sensitively as possible. There was already gossip about their strained marriage and he didn't care because it was what it was. Strained and unhappy and uncertain.

He knocked on Mary's door. When he didn't receive a reply, he entered and found her asleep on her writing desk, her diary wide open beside her sleeping head. The pen was still in her fingers and her eyes were dark and worn out under her closed eyes.

Francis sighed, walking over to her and gently prying the pen from her grip. He put the pen away and retrieved her diary, glancing at her before glancing back at the diary and reading its recent update.

_'4th May. Francis spent the whole day with Anne and Rose. He even spent time with James, Peter and Joseph. He is a wonderful father and I am relieved that he has the chance to bond with all of them. I doubt any of the children have left his side throughout the day, they are attached at the hip most times. Last night, I learnt that Kenna and Bash are leaving with the children for a new life away from all of this mess to Scotland. Life there would suit them, but it will be lonely and the children will miss their uncle, aunt and cousins. I miss my family, but most of all, I miss Francis. I miss how close we used to be. I miss him plaiting my hair in the morning as he wakes before me. I miss his gentle kisses and bright blue eyes sparkling at me. I miss his love and affection. I miss his touch and his sweet words as we make love. I miss...'_

He closed the diary and hid it in its usual spot whenever she stayed in her own bedchamber which was mostly when she was with child. Other times, it would be in his or what was _their_ bedchamber. Now it's his for as long as he commands it to be.

Francis sighed. He felt guilty. She was obviously in pain and now, with her friends and family leaving or in the process of leaving, she had no one to turn to. Not even their children who seemed to avoid her or make snarky comments about her. He had told the girls off during the day, not even being able to imagine the abuse the girls threw against their mother when he was apart from them.

"Mary?"

Mary slowly opened her eyes and sat up, stretching. "I... I must have dozed off."

"We need to tell the children, Mary," he said. "We need to be honest with them."

Mary nodded. "If that is what you want."

Francis didn't know if that was what he wanted, but he said, "Yes."

"Very well," she replied. "Let's go."

...

"So you and Mama are not with each other any more?" Rose asked, eyes wide.

Francis nodded. "Sometimes when mamas and papas are not happy, they leave each other. That is called _separation_," he explained. Lord knew how many times their relatives separated. Henry and Catherine... Bash and Kenna... Himself and Mary... "But they remain married for their children."

"When we come to wake you in the morning, we will have to go to _two_ places?" Anne asked.

"Yes," Mary said. "Separated means that we also live apart. We do not have a life _together_, but separate lives. My life is no longer tied to your father's life." It hurt her, stung her, broke her, but she kept her posture and voice even.

"Did you do something bad to Papa, Mama?" Rose asked her. "Is that why we went to Scotland?"

Mary dug her nails into her palms as she replied with, "Your father and I love you all very much. Our problems with each other are none of your concern. We want you to be happy and you are important to us. We went to Scotland to visit our family there. Just as a holiday as Papa was here."

"Why did you lie and tell us that Papa was working?" Anne asked her as well. "That bad man said that Papa was going to Heaven!"

"We didn't want you to hurt," Francis quickly explained, placing a hand on Mary's shaking ones. "I wanted you to be happy, I never wanted you to worry about me like the time we were worried about Robin and Rose."

The girls accepted their answers.

"Do you love Mama still?" Rose asked her father quietly.

Francis paused. He lifted Rose's chin and gave her a smile. "Your mother gave me you, Anne, James, Peter and Joseph. The love that I have for her is so much, my heart could burst. I have always wanted many children and she fulfiled my wish. I will never stop loving your mother, no matter what happens."

At least she had somewhat of a chance. Mary couldn't help but think about Olivia and all the women that Francis had been with over time. Perhaps he regretted not taking on a mistress. It had worked well for Henry.

In fact...

"A mistress," Mary proposed the minute the left the children playing amongst themselves before dinner.

Francis turned to his wife. "What about it?"

"You should take one on," Mary told him. "If you won't take me back, I won't deny you-"

"I will not take on a mistress-"

"An Italian or a lovely Fre-"

"Mary!"

Mary jumped, her footsteps coming to a halt. "What?"

"Just because we are separated does _not_ mean I want to sleep with other women," he said. "Infidelity already destroyed us once, why would I go through that again?"

"So, you won't take on a lover because of me?" She asked coyly. "Oh, Francis. I am flattered. I am truly flattered."

"Would you stop being so full of yourself?" He snapped, continuing to walk on.

Mary scoffed. "That is the last thing that I am doing! Francis, I love you and I would do _anything_ to have you take me back. I can only apologise so many times. You have three sons, Scotland and England, what else can I offer?"

"Time," he said simply. "Give me time. We can't _force_ things. I certainly do not want to resent you more than I do right now."

"Would it help if we ate separately too?" She asked, willing herself not to cry.

"Yes, I guess that wouldn't be so bad."

"Alright. Then we can also schedule when we visit the children during the night," she replied. "So, I can give you _time_ away from seeing me, of course."

Francis nodded. "Speak to the head governess about that."

"I will," she said, crossing her arms. "If we need to talk, how will we contact? Given that we should not see each other _at all_ to make things easier for you."

"We have servants, guards, pageboys... Take your pick," was his reply.

"Well, then. As you are the king, you should attend dinner. I will have it in my rooms," she concluded. "Good evening, Francis."

She all but stormed off, her patience wearing thin. The second she got to her bedchamber. She slammed the door and let out a frustrated scream. She then calmed down and eyed her writing table.

Her heart sank when she found that her diary was gone.

"But I left it..."

_Francis_, she thought, covering her face.

And he probably read all of her deepest thoughts two times over.

...

Later that night, Francis rested his head against the desk of his offices. He was tired, wanting to give himself at least a week to recover, but he couldn't. He had three countries under his rule.

Was that too much? Too desperate? Too greedy?

Many kings had been surprised at the news, sending offers to curry favour with him and Mary. All who wanted the chance to have a slice from Francis's conqueror pie.

He burnt the edge of one marriage proposal of one of his sons with the candle, almost rolling his eyes at the insulting offer. It reminded him of the offer Mary had made her subjects... _his_ subjects about their daughter's hand in marriage.

Francis had tried to be supportive, but it wasn't worth it at all. Not after everything. Missing Christmas, the birth of his sons, his eldest son's birthday... He let out a disgruntled sound, ripping up the next letter he opened without a second glance.

It was from Luc. He didn't know what to do with his sister's husband. He could either kill him and be done with it or seek an annulment so Claude was free from his clutches.

"Sometimes," Leith began, entering without knocking. "I forget how ruthless Bash is."

"Antoine deserved it," Francis said warily. "Any updates on our other prisoners?"

Leith nodded. "Some squealed like the pigs they were. Some begged for their families to be pardoned. It was tedious."

"It had to be done," came Francis's distracted reply as he stared at the ripped pieces of Luc's letter. "Claude."

"What about her?"

Francis looked up at Leith. "Oh, she is going to Scotland with the Duke and she's taking her son with her."

Leith nodded slowly, swallowing deeply. "I will miss her."

"What happened was not any of our faults-"

"I could have protected her. After all, we did have something in the past," Leith said. "I should continue my duties. Something tells me that I will be promoted."

Francis smiled wryly. "Not if I have something to do with that. I can't let Bash leave. Nor Kenna for that matter - Mary will miss her and right now, she needs people she can trust."

"She is the most hated woman of not one, not two, but _three_ countries," Leith added. "The things I hear, you would not like to hear."

"What are they saying about Mary?"

"Gossip," Leith said, waving the matter off. "Such as her sleeping with Antoine to increase our imprisonment and other stupid things like that. Also that she should never have been a queen in the first place. they wish her dead which I believe it's utterly stupid and overexaggerated-"

"Do you know where she is?"

Leith shook his head. "I'm sorry, I don't."

Francis closed his eyes. "Should I?"

"Should you 'what'?"

"Comfort her?"

"I can't tell you what to do, you are a king. Should I call you 'Your Majesty' to remind you?" Leith asked lightly. "If you even have to ask, that says something."

Francis picked up the next letter.

"And there's your answer," Leith whispered sadly before turning and leaving.

...

As it was not her time to visit the children and read them a bedtime story yet, Mary decided to look for her favourite nephew. Robin had been awkward around her, lately, but he still respected her and she respected him.

She came bearing gifts for Scotland and France's little hero, her memories of those fateful weeks still in her mind. A basket that was full of sugar cookies, toys and lemonade for her nephew.

Mary planted a bright smile on her face and headed towards his bedchamber. Probably the last time she would ever do this, with him moving to Scotland with his parents, her dearest friends and family in the whole wide world.

Tears sprung to her eyes and she pushed her shoulders back. She couldn't cry, not now. She had to visit Robin and tell him how much she loved him and then let him and her best friend go.

Just as she was about to knock on the door, she saw it opened a crack and voices inside. Curiously, she opened the door a little bit wider and saw Kenna and Bash playing with their children.

Mary's heart fell to the bottom of her stomach as she watched the family interact, smile, joke and laugh with each other. Robin was being taught how to plait his little sister's brunette locks and Bash stared at his wife lovingly, as if she was the only one in the world.

Francis used to look at Mary like that.

"Robin, what do you think about us moving to Scotland?" Kenna asked suddenly, surprising Mary. She had thought they would have told the children, well Robin, about their plans.

Robin paused from his plaiting to look at both of his parents. "Forever?"

"Yes," Bash said. "We can see Grandpapa Robert every day and we will have early morning horse rides along the coast. We can go exploring, your mother will show us all the places she went to as a child. A peaceful life."

Robin sighed heavily. "But we will leave Anne and Rose. They are my best friends."

"You have cousins on my side as well," Kenna told him. "You will befriend them. Scotland is a new start for us, we need to focus on the good and not the bad."

"I don't want to leave... France is our home and we keep moving! I want to go back to Avon!" Robin cried out. "I want my own floor again."

Bash cupped his son's chin. "You are too spoilt," he teased the boy. "But our home is gone. You can have your own floor again in Scotland. Think about it, we can go fishing and row a boat in the river."

Robin bowed his head. "Do I have a choice? Can't Uncle Francis and Aunt Mary look after me? Aunt Mary did when we went to Scotland. I'm sick of Scotland."

"We know," Kenna whispered sadly. "But it's safer for us."

"Sometimes change is exactly what we need," Bash added. "We may not like it always, but it is for the better good. It's scary, but this is a good scary. Who knows? You might prefer life in Scotland more than a life in France."

Robin nodded. "Won't we be missed?"

"We will," Kenna said. "Oh, we will."

"Although we are heavily thinking about this, we can remain in France at any point and slow down," Bash assured him. "It isn't a straight-away thing. We have time."

Kenna nodded happily. "And whatever happens, we will _always_ be a family."

Mary backed away and closed the door quietly. She left the basket with a guard who eyed her warily before leaving for her bedchamber. She felt like a criminal in her own _home_. She felt awful and she wanted the stares and gossip to stop.

Upon entering her bedchamber, she retrieved the wine jug and poured herself a goblet full. She downed it all and poured another. It looked like this wine was her only comfort and warmth for this night.


	42. A Bewildered Queen

**Replies to reviews:**

**Guest (1) [chapter 41]: We are working towards that ;)**

**elder 441 [chapter 41]: We're working to that ;) You're welcome!**

**BlerBlerBler [chapter 41]: I had written a long chapter involving the politics, but then I went through and it wasn't as structured as I needed it to be so I ended up cutting it out. I didn't really want to focus on the bad, but the good and the healing. Mary doesn't deserve to be shut out from society ;( **

**Greyandmint [chapter 41]: Same here ;(**

****Guest (2) [chapter 41]: Yeah, I'm also conflicted about Mary. I love her but she did make her bed as someone else said wisely. Mary is working towards making her marriage better and that will be shown in the next chapter, not this one. Yes, Francis's little girls are so impatient, haha. I love the three of them and can't wait until James is a little older to join in.****

****Quick thing, I am not entirely happy with how this chapter is but I had to give you guys something ;). I will try and make the next chapter better!****

* * *

"I thought you and Mary weren't on speaking terms?"

Francis stopped walking and turned to face Bash. "We aren't."

"Then why did you ask the guards to keep you updated on her movements?" Bash asked him. "That's a bit... _controlling_?"

"I'm curious."

"About what? Whether the next Condé is around the corner? Or me, for that matter," Bash replied, shrugging slightly. "Just talk to her. I don't know why you are being so stubborn - she's your _wife_."

Francis sighed. "A good king and a bad husband or a bad king and a good husband?"

"I don't know," Bash said.

"You did. And you told me," Francis told him.

"I was just going by what my king told me," was Bash's reply. "I do not have an answer for you now."

Francis gave him a look. "You and Kenna have argued many times over this. Your duties to _me_ and not her. So, what have you learnt from that?"

"I have learnt that my wife is important to me and I will do anything to make her happy and remain so," Bash replied. "Even if it means going to live in her home country for the rest of my life. I guess it's more haggis for me."

"So you chose to be a good husband and a bad King's Deputy?" Francis asked. "Thanks."

Bash chuckled. "I am one man, but I take all of my roles seriously. Honestly, make things right with Mary. She's a stranger in her own home and that isn't right. Also, it's for my own personal gain as I am quite tired of my wife leaving our bed for your wife's."

"Oh? Is someone feeling selfish today?" Francis teased him.

"Kenna is worried about Mary. We both are. If we do leave for Scotland, Mary will have no one to support her and comfort her. Roles her husband should be doing. I know what we went through will never be easy to grasp nor compensate, but at the end of the day, you have five children and you have had years of marriage and happiness. Don't lose that."

Francis nodded, bowing his head slightly. "I wouldn't know where to start."

"I would suggest taking some time away to sort out your marriage, but France has just got you back-"

"And now, I have to be a good king," Francis whined. "Bash, you are pulling me in both directions! There is no common ground in this issue."

Bash raised his hands. "I am not a king. I am just a commoner, it's easy for me to put down one duty in favour of the other. I shared my duties to you with Leith for my wife."

"Sebastian?"

"Yes?"

"You are a _terrible_ advisor," Francis said, shaking his head. "You're lucky you are my brother."

Bash smiled. "_Half_-brother," he corrected Francis. "But admit it, I am helping you make a decision on your _own_ right?"

Francis was stunned. That son of a... "I need to find Mary-"

"Your Majesty, my lord!" Nostradamus called them, running over to them.

"Nostradamus, what is it?" Francis asked in alarm.

"Is it one of the children?" Bash asked.

"Is it Mary?"

Nostradamus shook his head with wide eyes. "It's the plague. It has returned."

...

Francis couldn't believe it. He was back on his throne, but not without a major incoming incident. The last time the plague happened, he had gone to retrieve Lola and his eldest child. Now, he and his wife were not on speaking terms after five children and years of marriage.

"I have the children together in the nursery," Bash announced, entering the offices. "Kenna is with them. No one can find Mary."

"Mary..." Francis breathed out in shock. "Have the guards searched everywhere?"

Bash nodded. "Yes. Her horse was still here and all of them are accounted for except the horses for the patrol party. She must still be at the castle, but where we do not know."

"Find her, Bash. Bring her to the children and let me know when you hear any word from her," Francis ordered.

"I will."

"And Bash?"

"Yes?"

"If anything happens... Thank you for everything. For remaining by my side, for being my support. For being my _brother_," Francis told him. "Without you, I wouldn't be able to do most things as my duties to both the kingdom and my marriage. I am glad that you were my hero growing up."

Bash blinked in surprise. "There are only three years between us. Surely, I wasn't your inspiration?"

"Bash, you've experienced things that I couldn't. You are both one of the people and a nobleman. You give me an insight into a world that I was forbidden to touch," Francis explained. "You did things so I didn't do them. You've killed and you've lied for me. Even when we argue, you save my life. Even when we wish hell and death and bitter words to each other, you are still _there_ for me."

Francis held up a letter and sighed heavily. He opened it up and smiled at its contents before holding it out for Bash. He also got a pen and offered that too with his other hand.

"I need you to sign this."

Bash eyed his hands. "What is it? Am I signing my soul away?"

Francis chuckled, shaking his head. "No. You are signing your future and your children's futures. And even your grandchildren's and your descendants below them."

"F-Francis, what is it?"

"A plea from me?" Francis whispered, swallowing hard. "To stay?"

"I-I can't sign that without Kenna's permission."

"Oh, she will give it. I am sure of it," Francis promised him. "Sign it and find out what it is."

Bash rolled his eyes. "Shouldn't it be the other way around?"

"I love the sense of mysteriousness. Humour me," Francis replied, grinning. He couldn't be happy with the plague around the corner, but he wasn't sure if he would have another chance to do this.

Bash took the pen first and walked up to the desk, reaching a hand back for the paper. When Francis put it in his hand, he signed the paper against the desk and placed the pen down. He picked the paper up and read its contents.

"Royal titles?" Bash mumbled. "But-"

"You signed it."

"Francis, I don't need a title. Honestly, I prefer the simple life than the one of a royal," Bash said, placing the paper down. "You know that."

Francis shrugged. "And that gives you one. Once France knows how the former king's bastard and former mistress saved our country, your life won't be threatened. I have Avon being rebuilt and you are probably France's second most important man. I mean, who is closer to the King of France than you?"

"_Archduke_, that is quite something..."

"Go and find Mary and take her to the children. You have good news to tell the Archduchess and your little prince and princess."

...

Mary felt invisible. She hadn't been here in years, finding this tavern by accident when she and Catherine fell into unexpected circumstances. She picked at the cheap material she wore, thanking God that no one recognised her in her commoner's clothing.

"Hey, lady!" One of the cooks called out. "Still want that beef pie?"

Mary looked up. "Yes, please. I've brought some coin."

"Too polite," the male cook muttered to his wife. "Don't get many of those here. Here you go. Keep the coin, you've made my day."

Mary smiled, drinking her tankard first before digging into the pie. She felt like a girl, rebellious and sneaking out of the castle grounds.

"Politics," one of the customers called out towards her. "Do you get involved, lady?"

Mary shook her head. "I am a woman, what do I know?"

"Women know a lot more than men sometimes," the man replied, shoving some bread into his mouth. "That king of ours... I feel for his wife."

"You do?" Mary asked. "You don't hate her?"

"Oh, I hate her," the man said, other heads nodding in reply. "But for her to give up her own country for his needs? He's a greedy king, that is what I am saying. Who needs three countries? Next, we will be starving and he will be making sure crops are aplenty in England and Scotland. More responsibility, less time to focus on what's important. His birth country."

Mary clicked her tongue. "And what do you think would be wise for him to do?"

"His mother was a clever queen to his father. I am sure that the Scottish Queen can redeem herself and show us what she has to offer just as the Italian Queen did. We never gave her a chance," the man replied. "Probably because we knew she would fail us, then again she didn't fail her country and her armies came to liberate us from that tyrant. I will admit, bringing England into the fold was a good play on her part."

"I don't know. I don't get into politics," Mary mumbled. "I believe that women should sometimes sit down and watch."

"Watch the men mess things up more like," the cook's wife called out. "Then they will stand and fix things up. I wonder when the next time our king fails us will be."

Mary finished her pie and gulped down her ale. "Another one, please."

"Hungry?" The cook guffawed. "You are so skinny! Where is all that going to?"

Mary planted a polite smile on her face. She was feeding twin babies and needed all the sustenance she could get. Her appetite had replenished somewhat, especially with how tender these pies were. Although, French food was nothing compared to her native Scottish food.

"Somewhere," Mary replied coyly. "Alright, fill the tankard up, please. And then another."

"'Ere," he said, filling her tankard. "You one of these men's daughters or something?"

Mary swallowed a gulp. "I lost my work - I used to work as a handmaiden for the de Poitierses at Avon," she lied easily. "Then the lands were burnt down, my family split and now, I come here to drink my sorrows because loneliness is so refreshing."

"There's a madam, she might give you some good work," he said. "A pretty thing like you. Not that I would. I have my wife."

Mary giggled. "Of course. If you won't let me pay you, at least let me help and pay my debt."

"Clear the empty tables then," the cook's wife replied.

As Mary got to work, she could hear people talk about her and Francis. Even about Bash and not surprisingly, Kenna. They were all in favour of three out of four and sometimes that varied between her and Francis and who was right and who was more wrong.

After a while, she decided to make her way back. She thanked the owners of the tavern and left, getting onto her borrowed horse and riding back to the castle. She smelt the fresh air, inhaling it deeply and the sun hit her face and her eyes closed.

She could get used to this. Perhaps, she should make more trips away from the castle when Kenna was gone. The villagers were kind and welcoming, especially when they saw it wasn't a noblewoman or a queen. She remembered the last time - they had been eager to kill her and Catherine, not that they knew who the women were anyway.

Mary opened her eyes and she stopped her horse, sending the person who blocked her way a small, sheepish smile.

"You need to come back immediately, Mary," Bash told her.

"Why? What's happened? Is Francis using you as his point of contact for me, now?"

Bash raised his eyebrows. "I will tell you when we arrive. I've been looking everywhere for you, everyone has."

"Is it bad? Has something happened?" Mary asked in alarm, getting her horse to move again. "I was enjoying the fresh air."

"You couldn't have done that at the gardens?" Bash asked gently. "Mary, you can't disappear without any word. What if something happened to you?"

"No one would care," Mary muttered darkly, the effects of the alcohol finally starting to affect her. "No one cares. Not even Francis. The guards glare and stare at me as if I am a criminal. The nobles gossip right under my nose and to my face. Bash, do you and Kenna really have to go?"

Bash smiled knowingly. "Just be patient, alright? I will let you know about _everything_ when we get back."

...

"The plague has returned?" Mary asked, sipping from her wine. "Are we sure?"

Francis nodded. "Nostradamus confirmed it. It is coming within a few days. For now, I need you and our children out of harm's way..." He eyed her clothes. "Why are you dressed like a servant?"

Mary shielded her body somewhat. "None of your business. I am surprised you didn't get someone to speak on your behalf."

"This is important, Mary. Not some childish row," Francis snapped.

"Well, the last time the plague happened, you ran off to another woman. My friend, my _closest_ friend," Mary replied, sipping her wine again. "And brought back a child that you claimed for the whole wide world when we hadn't even had children of our own yet. You gave yourself a mistress, you treated me exactly how your father treated Catherine. Like _nothing._"

Francis took the goblet from her hand. "Perhaps you should sleep."

"Sleep?" Mary asked, amused. "I am wide awake and I am reinvigorated!"

"Lola was and never will be my mistress," Francis told her. "You are the one who led me into her arms in the first place. Getting with my own brother and destroying our relationship. Before you, everything was simple."

Mary looked stung as if he'd slapped her. "If I die right now, would you care?" She asked. That was how it felt right now. Her heart was breaking even more and she didn't know how much she could take. Her eyes watered and tears began to fall. "Would you keep me in your heart as you find another wife? As you bed other women?"

"You're not making any sense," Francis replied guiltily. "Mary, I didn't mean-"

"No one says things that they don't mean," Mary whispered. "It is always buried deep inside them, but they do come out eventually. Before I met you again since our childhood, I never really had a life. Threats of being poisoned in convents and attacked in carriages... Undercover, hidden away, locked up..."

She took a shaky breath and sat down, feeling the tears roll down her cheeks, one by one, two by two, and they never ceased. She felt cold, hot and sick all at the same time.

"Then I saw you and everything made sense. I did everything to protect you because I would rather you alive than marry me and I be the cause of your death," she continued. "Then we were given the all-clear and that was the happiest... _one_ of the happiest days of my life. We got married, we struggled to have children, we got through Lola and John and Condé. Then, we finally had something. Anne. Then Rose. James. Now, the twins, Peter and Joseph. We had our fairy tale come to life."

"Mary-"

"I could beg, cry, refuse to eat, anything... But if that won't bring you home to _me_... Because this isn't home, not right now. It's a place I live in, but without your love, it's not home."

Francis slowly made his way over to her, kneeling before her and taking her hands in his. "This hurts me just as much as it hurts you. I try. God, Mary, I try. But my heart and my head and telling me two different things."

"Which one tells you that you still love me?" She asked quietly.

Francis sniffled. "My heart. But I can't let my heart rule my head. Not right now, France needs me."

"She will always need you."

"I know and that's the problem."

Mary nodded. "Well, then... It was nice while it lasted."

"Mary-"

"I am not expecting the world. I just need to be respected and I don't want your people to have another revolution," she whispered. "Just let them know that I am on your side."

Francis cupped her cheek. "Be quiet."

"What?" She asked, bewildered.

"Stop talking."

Mary nodded stiffly and he placed his lips on hers ever so gently. It was soft, barely even a kiss as their lips connected on the smallest of surface areas. Then, he pressed his against hers fully and cupped her other cheek as her arms rounded his waist.

"I love you," Francis breathed out, pulling away. "It's either-or, but I will make it work."

"What do you mean?"

"I can be a good king _and_ a good husband," he whispered softly. "I just have to work at it. I have to work on us because I can't lose you, Mary. Not again."

"Francis..." Mary trailed off, letting out a sob.

"You asked if I would care if you died right now. God, I would care so much, I would die right beside you," he told her. "You mean everything to me and even though I was so hurt and angry, I couldn't deny how much I missed and loved you. The thought of you and our children kept me going. My head was telling me bitter things, resentful things, but my heart knew deep down that you weren't to fully blame. I should have stopped this the minute you gave Scotland what they wanted. Mary, it is my fault as well."

Mary swallowed deeply and then kissed him hard. She couldn't be selfish, she had no right to be selfish from the minute she declared Scotland's independence and lost it. "Go and be a king first."

...

After getting dressed in her usual clothes, Mary made her way towards the nursery. The same nursery that she would spend her days until God knew when the plague would end. It frustrated her, bringing back horrible and unsettling memories.

Eduard Narcisse amongst others. She didn't even know what happened to Luc, not that any of the men would tell her. She didn't know a lot of things these days.

"Mary."

Mary rolled her eyes and turned to face Catherine. "Catherine," she replied cordially.

"Come with me," Catherine said, already starting to walk in the opposite direction.

"I am meant to-"

"That was an order," Catherine stated, not even turning to face her.

Mary sighed heavily and followed after. She was tired, hungry and the last thing she wanted was to follow her evil mother-in-law into another confrontation. The slap months ago was enough contact between both of them and Mary was not ready for another round of abuse.

"Close the door behind you," Catherine told her, once they arrived in the Dowager Queen's bedchambers.

Mary closed the door, spotting the table full of food and drinks. "You are prepared."

"We all are," Catherine replied, heading over to her wardrobe.

Catherine paused before the wardrobe. She then turned to the trunk beside it and unlocked it, retrieving a dress with gold detailing. She then brought it over to Mary and laid it out on the chaise before them.

"This is the exact dress that I wore the day I stepped foot in France from Italy," Catherine said softly. "My family's crest stitched on it. It is Italian in every way, nothing French about it."

"It's beautiful," Mary mumbled, staring at the dress. "But what has it got to do with me?"

Catherine sighed, sitting down on the chaise and bringing the dress to her lap. She then patted the space beside her and Mary sat, turning to Catherine in confusion and slight anxiety.

"I was hated. The French never wanted an Italian queen. I was judged harshly, threatened..." Catherine began, eyeing Mary warily. "I had wanted to go home and hide. I was a girl, I had been prepared, but not enough."

"I'm sorry you felt that way," Mary told her. "But what has this got to do with me, again?"

Catherine raised an eyebrow. "You are not France's most loved queen. You probably will never be so either... Mary, I was in your position. Granted, I fought tooth and nail for my reputation, but before I became the woman I was today, I was timid and scared and judged."

"Were you?" Mary asked quietly.

Catherine nodded. "I was. I married Henry and people started to accept me. But I was too naive. Especially with Diane de Poitiers in the picture. After Henry and she had Sebastian and Henry claimed him, I was humiliated. Although France would never accept Diane as queen, they did not favour me too much either. Years of being barren had my every move scrutinised. The people judged you after Francis claimed John-Philip."

"If you know how I felt, how did you not help me? Or support me even?" Mary asked her.

"I apologise sincerely, Mary," Catherine replied to that. "I was frightened of losing Francis. Of losing the heir _I_ gave Henry and not Diane. I wanted to protect my son from Nostradamus's prophecy and getting rid of you was the only option. I never believed events that followed that would be that substantial."

Mary nodded a little. "Like legitimising Bash?"

"The past is so long ago, things are hazy but memorable," Catherine said. "Anyway, I have to accept you. No matter how many times you put my son in danger, you are his wife and the mother of his children. You gave him three sons, you listened to _me_. I need to learn how to co-exist with you."

"Will you slap me again?"

Catherine smiled. "Do not test me, Mary. We are even."

Mary blushed, remembering when she slapped Catherine all of those years ago. "We are."

"Oh!" Catherine suddenly said, getting up and retrieving two golden dresses. "These are for my beautiful granddaughters. It's Italian fabric, the best. I have also planned a grand event for Rose's sixth birthday should we survive this plague. I want to make more of an effort with Anne and Rose."

"Thank you," Mary said happily. "That is sweet. I am sure they would love them and cherish their gifts and party."

Catherine cupped Mary's cheek. "You and Francis are better than Henry and I ever was. Try and make things work with him."

Mary blinked in surprise. "We are... getting somewhere."

"Good. Now make that _somewhere_ a firm destination."

...

Kenna smiled softly at the sleeping children, walking over to the chambers connected to the nursery to retrieve some food. She rubbed her seven-month bump, feeling her back stiffen uncomfortably.

"Kenna?"

Kenna jumped, turning around to playfully roll at her husband as he entered and locked the door behind him. She gave him a bright smile, offering him some food to which he rejected.

"Where is Mary? Have you found her?"

"I did," he confirmed. "I thought she would be here already though?"

Kenna shrugged. "I haven't seen her."

"Her and Francis must still be speaking then," Bash muttered, taking a much-needed seat. "I have been running about the castle and outside the grounds all day, I need to catch my breath."

"Try carrying a child inside you," Kenna teased her husband. "The children are all accounted for and asleep."

Bash smiled at her, holding out a hand for her to take. He squeezed her hand the second it touched his and he pulled her over to sit on his lap. He then kissed her hand softly and sighed.

"I have something for you."

Kenna smiled knowingly. "I'd forgotten about that."

Bash reached under his shirt and retrieved her ring. He broke the necklace apart and slipped the ring off before sliding it onto her finger. "There, it's back on its rightful place."

"I felt so empty without it," Kenna mumbled, studying the ring. "Thank you."

"That's not the only thing."

"Oh?"

Bash bit his lip nervously. "What if we remained in France after all?"

Kenna frowned, bringing a hand to her head. "Bash, we talked about this. Scotland is safer, it's happier and we are closer to _my_ family-"

"I signed our future."

Kenna closed her eyes. "What do you mean by that, Sebastian?"

Bash smirked. "You only call me that when you are mad."

"I am mad," Kenna replied, opening her eyes. "We agreed, my love. It was _your_ suggestion in the first place!"

"I know, I know and I have thought about it," Bash quickly said. "Francis has rewarded us, mostly _you_, for our part in claiming France again."

Kenna gasped softly. "Really?" She asked curiously.

"I love how your eyes sparkle at the implication of monetary rewards," he teased her.

"Bash!"

"Alright!" He said, laughing. "How would you feel about becoming a _royal_ noblewoman?"

"Becoming a royal noblewoman?" She questioned.

"Well, it is done already. I signed it, so you _are_ an archduchess now. And our son is a prince, our daughter is a princess..." Bash trailed off, watching as her face contorted into different emotions.

It settled on shock. "A-Are you kidding me?"

"No."

"Is this a joke of some kind?" Kenna asked. "Are you serious? Does this come with lands-"

Bash pressed a kiss on her lips before replying, "I don't know, but this is real. Kenna, this is real. I shouldn't be surprised, Francis treats me better than our father did when he was still the king. Part of me feels strange about the whole thing."

"Don't feel strange. You deserve it," Kenna told him. "You deserve happiness and everything that France has to offer you that is great and wonderful. You have fought for them even when they hated you. It takes a lot of courage and strength to be who you are and I apologise for ever judging you for killing people. I am just as bad as you - I manipulate people for my selfish reasons."

"We are different people than we were before we had children, Kenna," Bash replied. "Don't chastise yourself because of that. You are the least selfish person and I know and I am glad you are the mother of my children. Damn this plague... I want nothing more than to be with you and our children but-"

"You are immune and France needs its undisputed hero," Kenna finished for him proudly. "Do you think our next reunion would be as dramatic and romantic as the first time?"

Bash chuckled. "I wouldn't want to risk our unborn child's life by lifting you. But after the plague has gone, I have so many kisses for you, Robert and Anastasia."

"Now, that's something to look forward to."

...

Francis winced in slight pain, feeling the ache in his head. He felt exhausted, but he couldn't rest. Not whilst the plague was arriving, cases of the townsfolk falling ill to the illness.

He glanced at the food and wine before him, his appetite nonexistent. Tentatively, he began eating and slowly, he could feel his strength return. His clothes still hung loose, needing to be stitched up in the right places frequently. He couldn't be seen out of place, even getting male servants to fix his hair and trim his stubble.

He was never one for caring so much about appearances, naturally being well-kept and clean, but his imprisonment had taken his strength and will to keep up with his appearance himself.

After signing off on some orders, he finished his meal and got up, tidying his desk. He still wasn't sure whether to remain exposed or locked away with the rest of his family. His mother was going towards the latter, trying to convince his uncertain mind.

Uncertainty.

That was dangerous when it came to a king. He couldn't afford to be uncertain in his decisions. Either he toughed the plague out like the commonfolk or he hides away and protects himself.

"Are you busy?" Bash asked, entering the room.

"Not for you," Francis replied. "What is it?"

"I saw how tired you were earlier. I've taken it upon myself to ask around about food," Bash said, handing him over a book full of signatures. "Nobles for the cause when the plague passes. Crops secured from Sweden and Finland. Do you need me to do anything else?"

Francis smiled softly. "No. You are doing this better than I am."

"Doing what?"

"Nevermind-"

"Talk to me, Francis," Bash said. "I am here for you."

Francis sighed, closing the book. "I feel out of place. Like I cannot do anything _right_."

"You did throw yourself into your duties right away. You need some rest. Perhaps this plague couldn't have come at a more better time for that," Bash told him. "I am sure that you are tired given all of the farming and visits to the orphanage you've done."

"How are you finding it easy? To slip back into your roles and duties so easily without second-guessing yourself?" Francis asked him.

Bash shrugged. "I have always worked to my limit, and once I reached it... I don't know Francis, I don't have an answer for you."

"I can't eat. I worry. I think about my marriage. I try and bond with my children..." Francis replied. "Three countries. Three countries under my rule and now, one is in dire need of help and I can't even _think_. I can't think of anything to help. Not that I did much the last time. It was all Mary..."

"Life has a way of testing you. Antoine's revolution allowed things to be put into perspective. You need to slow down and focus on yourself. Your health is important without it, there is no king," Bash said. "Anything you need, I am at your disposal."

Francis shook his head. "No. I won't rest until France has got through the plague."

"Until then, can you _please_ eat properly and sleep? Not for Mary or me, but for your children."

"Some may think that _you're_ the king," Francis teased. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to sleep for a few hours. I haven't slept properly - my mother breathes down my neck every second."

"Well, a good thing about the plague is that she is confined to her _own_ chambers," Bash replied, smiling. "I think it reduces stress for all parties involved."

"And tension," Francis said. "Her and Mary aren't on the best terms. They already weren't, but it is worse."

Bash nodded sadly. "Perhaps you can help bridge the gap? Although, I doubt Catherine would be too willing to forgive Mary. Oh, have you by the way?"

"Have I 'what'?"

"Forgiven her?"

Francis crossed his arms and sighed. "I forgave her the minute she left for Scotland. But yes, we have seen through our hostilities. I intend to strengthen our marriage after."

"In more ways than one?" Bash asked, smirking.

Francis almost choked on air. "I think you should leave now!"

Bash left, his laughter following him out as Francis walked back to his desk and opened the top drawer. He slipped out a few sheets of paper, papers which had his beautiful wife sketched onto them. Francis let out a smile, brushing his fingers over the sketches.

He couldn't wait until all of this was over and to love Mary properly again. He shouldn't punish her, shouldn't make her an outcast in her country. She was already alone, but he hoped that his brother's decision to keep his family in France for the foreseeable future would help greatly.

Before he focused on France, he picked his pen up and began to write a love letter.


	43. An Apologetic Queen

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**elder441 [chapter 42]: I am happy too :) Catherine has no ulterior motives, she just has to accept Mary after years of knowing her at this point. Here is the next chapter, and no worries!**

**BlerBlerBler [chapter 42]: I am so glad as well! More of that in this chapter :)**

**Guest (1) [chapter 42]: Thank you! No problem :) Here's the next chapter. And the girls make a cheeky appearance but next chapter will definitely be some Frary/children goodness!**

****Guest (2) [chapter 42]: Yes, poor Mary. We forget that she is human and makes mistakes and feels judged ever since she married Francis. We all feel sorry for her now but definitely not as much as we do for Francis.****

* * *

Mary entered the children's chambers, hearing the doors lock behind her. She walked through the second set of doors, the dresses in her hands as she saw her daughters wide awake on the bed, Anne plaiting Rose's hair as they spoke about their imaginative garden tea party. It will be a while until any of them would be allowed outside.

"Mama!"

Mary smiled, coming over to stand at the end of the bed. "Your grandmother gave me these to give to you both. Only the best for her granddaughters."

The girls scampered on the bed, reaching out to take a dress as the smaller one went to Rose and the slightly bigger one went to Anne. They pressed the dresses against their chests and modelled it for each other, excitement laced in their quick words about where and when they'd wear it.

"It's only for special occasions," Mary told them. "But you can try them on if you want. To see if they fit?"

"Yes!" Anne said, getting off the bed to run behind the screen.

"Mary? Is that you?" The Queen heard Kenna call out.

Mary turned, excusing herself from the girls before heading into the nursery to see Kenna rocking one of the twins. She smiled softly, taking a seat beside her on the chaise and peeking over to see her fourth-born still awake.

"He's not settling," Kenna explained. "I had the older children go to the chamber bed instead to give the babies some peace."

"May I?" Mary asked, her arms going out.

Kenna nodded. "Of course. He might sleep better in his mother's arms," she said, handing the boy over to Mary. "Where have you been?"

"I took some time for myself," Mary said.

"After?"

"Catherine cornered me."

Kenna rolled her eyes. "What did she want? To slap you silly again?"

"No, we made peace."

"Pardon?"

Mary laughed wryly. "I know. Lord knows why, but we see each other differently. For Francis, for the children, for _France_."

"T-That's good."

"It is."

Kenna smiled softly. "Mary, I'm staying. _We're_ staying."

Mary gasped, a hand reaching out to grip one of Kenna's hands. "You are?"

"Yes," Kenna confirmed. "My beloved husband signed an edict from Francis."

"An edict?" Mary breathed out. Francis came through. "Kenna, I am so happy."

Kenna laughed. "I know you'd be. You know, you should use this as a chance."

"A chance for what?"

"A chance to reconnect with Francis. I doubt anyone would be willing to let the King of France roam the castle halls rather than contained to prevent infection," Kenna replied. "France has just got her king back, she doesn't want to lose him."

Mary looked down at the baby in her arms and saw that he was asleep. "Neither do we."

"What are you going to do?"

"I haven't written in my diary in a long while," the queen said. "But that has given me an idea."

Kenna smiled. "A love letter?"

"How are you in my head?"

"I love love," Kenna said happily. "I know most things about love and... sometimes I just _know_."

Mary blushed. "Well, yes. A love letter."

"Mama!" Rose called out, running up to her with a letter in her hand. "It's for you!"

Mary furrowed her brows and collected it, seeing that it was Francis's hand that had written her name on the folded paper. She wondered what was inside and gently coerced her sleeping baby into Kenna's arms before standing up and heading over to the window for some slight privacy.

She opened the letter and began reading it.

_'Dearest Mary,_

_Over the years, our marriage has gone strength to strength until of late. We've found ourselves pulled at different directions, leading to consequences out of our control. Despite that, every storm we go through, I always know we will come out of it and this time is no different. I tell you this all the time, but recently it has not been said as much. I love you, Mary. I need you to know that. Perhaps, I have chosen the right people to have on my council of trusted because at this moment, France is in the best hands as I retreat to focus on our family and most of all, you. The plague could not have come at a better time to enable us to spend time together as a family. However, I think it is unfair of me to want to only be with you for now as I have spent most of my hours running after our daughters and reading to our sons. We could split the time, our marriage is just as important as raising our children and I would not want them to be confused as we have told them that we are separated. We will see. Meet me in James's bedchamber in forty minutes._

_Love, Francis.'_

Mary smiled to herself, turning away from the letter to see Rose cooing over her sleeping sibling in her aunt's arms. She didn't need to worry, the children's bedchambers and nurseries were connected, so she didn't need to have the door unlocked to leave.

"Kenna, do you mind looking after the kids for a few more hours?" Mary asked her. "There are some things I need to sort out."

"Like what?" Kenna asked knowingly.

Mary blushed lightly. "A bath. F-For myself. I've had a long day and I realised that I haven't even had a bath this morning. Oh and that letter. I need to _do_ that."

"Is the letter the only thing you're going to do?" Kenna asked coyly, making Rose turn to her.

"I might not even get to the letter," Mary replied with a smirk. "Do you mind?"

Kenna rolled her eyes playfully. "I don't. At this rate, I am a glorified nanny."

"Awh, don't say that," Mary told her, coming over to brush her finger over her cheek. "We will pay you with lands and lace."

"Ha!" Kenna squealed out.

Mary laughed, going through the doors behind the chaise and locking them. She then continued on through the bedchamber, ending up at the next set of doors. She opened them and found James's bedchamber empty.

He did say forty minutes.

Taking the pins out of her hair and locking the doors behind her, making sure the secret door was unlocked, Mary headed to the silver tub behind the screen.

It made life easier for the governesses, James always mortified to be taken out of familiar surroundings so they ended up bathing him in a more comfortable setting. It also made life easier for Mary and Francis who sometimes spent their nights preparing the children for bed when they could. Separately though until now or whenever they could fix things properly.

Mary found the tub empty and she figured that there would be no point in calling for servants to run her a bath as word could get out quickly about a secret meeting between the 'feuding' couple.

So she did things herself. _If you want something done well, you do it yourself_, she thought to herself, rolling up her sleeves.

...

By the time she was done, Mary had laid the table with food and wine. She also had the bath drawn which was piping hot and had tea prepared in case it was too indulgent of them to have the wine. She had been drinking a lot so she figured she would stick with the tea instead.

Her head was still sore from her little episode earlier but the effects of the wine were going away. She rubbed at her neck, feeling it stiffen and she wanted nothing more than one of her husband's special massages but she wouldn't ask.

She was doing this for him.

He gave and she took, rarely ever giving back and that was not how she wanted nor saw her marriage to be. It stung, the realisation of her selfishness and his need to make everyone happy affecting their marriage negatively.

"Mary?"

"Francis," she breathed out, seeing him step through the secret door.

Francis closed it behind him. "I wasn't sure if you would get it. You seem to disappear at the most peculiar chances."

Mary chuckled softly. "I was ambushed on my way to the children. Your mother and I came to an understanding."

"Oh, did you?"

"Yes," Mary said, gesturing for him to take a seat at the head of the table where a full plate was laid out. "We have an agreement that I wish to uphold."

"What is it?" He asked, sitting down.

Mary shook her head, taking a seat beside him. "I can't tell you. It is between your mother and me."

"Very well," he said. "You did all of this for me?"

She nodded happily. "I want to try, Francis. Am I allowed to be selfish and ask that you are remaining contained until the plague passes?"

"You are," he confirmed, kissing her softly. "Bash and Leith are my eyes, ears and hands until it ends. I want to be with you and our children. I want to reconnect as a family. We've been apart from each other for so long... I was almost afraid the children wouldn't even remember me."

Mary cupped his cheek. "I told them stories every night. I had your portrait in their necklaces done. One of my cousins does jewellery making in his past time, he did them as gifts for the children."

"The little things you do for them... All the meaningful and wonderful," Francis said.

Mary's eyes fell. "But I can never get it right when it comes to you. I want you to take the lead, I _need_ you to take the lead."

"Mary, marriage goes both ways-"

"I know, but I need to start thinking for _us_ and not my own personal gain," she said, cutting him off gently. "I will be your queen and I will always listen to you unless you ask for my counsel."

Francis sighed. "Mary, the reason we worked so well in the past was that you gave your counsel without the need for consent. Everyone needs to realise that you are their queen, you have opinions, you help me and them."

"I was starting to think that I was some glorified breeding mare," Mary said lightly. "I know I've hurt you and I will spend forever making it up to you."

"You don't have to. I am a king, I do not need to be made up to."

"There you go, putting others before yourself. Francis, _please_," Mary begged him. "Let me try at least. Marriage goes both ways, as you said."

Francis brushed her hair from her eyes. "God, I love you."

"It comes easier to say now, does it?" She asked breathlessly, her eyes lowering down to his lips.

"So much easier now that you're real and in front of me and not a figment of my mind or someone to blame," he replied quietly.

Mary swallowed deeply, kissing him softly. "I'm sorry," she whispered, placing another kiss on his lips. "I'm sorry."

"Mary..." He said, his words silenced by another kiss.

"I'm sorry." Another kiss.

"Mary-"

Another kiss. "I'm sorry."

This time he didn't say anything as he pressed his lips to hers before she could get there first. His hand pressed her neck closer to him so he could deepen the kiss as his other hand got to work, undoing her laces single-handedly.

"Hmm," she mumbled, pulling away and stopping him. "I need a bath. You should eat."

"Well, what a coincidence? I've eaten and I need a bath as well."

Mary giggled, undoing her laces and taking her clothes off. She kissed his lips and helped him with his own clothes before pulling him to the tub.

He got inside first, hissing at the hotness before he relaxed. She got inside and seated herself in front of him, resting her back on his chest. His arms wrapped around her chest and he kissed her neck, his eyes closing as he inhaled her scent as well as the lemon in the water.

"It's been a while since we've done this," he mumbled.

Mary nodded sadly. "I'm sorry."

"Stop."

"I'm sorry," she repeated, a sob escaping her lips as she bowed her head.

Francis sighed, opening his eyes. "Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots and France, and my wife... stop apologising otherwise I will..."

"You will 'what'?" Mary asked, laughing slightly as she wiped her tears and turned her head to the side to look at him.

He smirked. "I will tickle you."

"You wouldn't dare," she breathed out, kissing him.

"That won't stop me," he said, his fingers quickly attacking her hips.

She squealed, the water splashing out of the tub as she jolted and laughed, her head going back as her eyes closed. She pushed his forearms, his fingers leaving her sides as she sighed in relief.

"Fine," she whispered. "I'll stop apologising."

"Thank you."

"For now," she finished.

Francis playfully glared at her but rested his forehead on the side of her head, rocking her slightly, his arms over around her shoulders. He closed his eyes and yawned, feeling tired.

"Are you tired, Francis?" Mary asked him.

"No," he lied, kissing her cheek. "I want to spend time with you. I'm sure the children could hear us, I hope not."

Mary smiled wryly. "It's alright if you want to sleep. I will sleep beside you."

Francis nodded. "I... I don't sleep properly. Not since... Not since you left for Scotland."

"Oh."

"I have nightmares. I check in on the children... I stay up and sort out plans and deals and other things," he told her.

Mary shifted so she was now on the other side of the tub and could see him better. "Talk to me."

Francis swallowed deeply and nodded. "I feel trapped. Like I can't do anything right. I feel like this isn't my body. Like I am watching myself from an outsider's view. A bad king and an even terrible husband."

"Don't be stupid," Mary said firmly. "You are the best thing to ever happen to France, to _me_. It isn't easy, I know. But if there is one person I know that can get through this, that is _you_. You are a king, the best king I know. In less than a decade, you have made France better than your father ever did in however long he ruled for. Do not ever put yourself down. You're a better king than I am for Scotland. I've failed since the day I became queen."

Francis watched the tears slide down his wife's cheeks and he reached over, brushing them away. "You can't blame a baby for not being able to rule a government."

She laughed, wiping her nose as he laughed too. "Imagine that. A baby giving orders. I hope the government brushed up on their baby language."

Francis sighed wistfully. "We should have that nap, I am feeling quite tired."

Mary got out first, collecting her robe and putting it on before she got a towel for her husband. She waited patiently as she watched him get out and when his feet reached the ground, he swayed a little before shaking his head and snapping back to reality.

"You must be really tired," she stated, giving him the towel and heading to the table to drink some tea that had gone cold.

"Yes," he mumbled, turning to use the tub edge as support.

He felt light on his feet and his eyes closed slowly before opening and closing slowly again. Then he collapsed and saw black.

Mary froze, slowly turning to see Francis slumped by the tub. Her heart dropping, she rushed over to him and shook him.

"Francis? Francis!" She cried out, looking around for help. "Francis, wake up, my love. Please..." She sobbed, cupping his cheeks.

She gasped when she saw blood starting to slide down from his nose and used the towel to dab at it just as his eyes opened in confusion. She hugged him tightly, crying into his shoulder.

"Mary? What...?"

"You fell down," Mary sobbed. "You were going to leave me."

"Leave you?" He mumbled, closing his eyes to shield them from the light. "I'll never leave you."

Mary sniffled. "Do you want to stand up?"

"Yes," he said, sitting up as she helped him stand. He didn't bother covering up as she led him to the chaise. It was big enough to sleep on and extra big enough for two to sleep on as the only bed item that was in this bedchamber was James's cot.

"I felt dizzy," he said as Mary helped him get dressed. He took over in wiping his nose and winced. "Must have hit my nose on the tub."

Mary nodded. "It's starting to bruise," she told him. "I will call for Nostradamus-"

"Mary-"

"What if you collapsed because of something serious?" She asked her husband frantically. "I can't lose you, Francis. Please, seek some medical attention!"

Francis cupped her cheek and nodded. "Call for him."

...

"He needs rest," Nostradamus concluded.

Bash and Catherine rolled their eyes, giving Francis pointed looks as he shied away from their gazes. It made Mary laugh as she played with his hair and kissed his hand.

"What have I been telling you, Francis?" Bash said. "I am not sympathetic at all."

"I agree with Sebastian, for once," Catherine added, crossing her arms. "Oh, Francis, I cannot believe you!"

"And look what you've done to yourself," Bash told him. "Your nose was your best feature."

Francis laughed. "I need you both to leave now."

"It's going to be crooked now," Bash continued. "You'll be known as the 'King With The Crooked Nose'. Not a nice moniker."

"Bash..."

"I'm leaving. But in all seriousness, try and not collapse on us anytime soon."

Francis nodded. "I won't."

Bash left and Catherine took his spot. "Dehydration, lack of sleep, lack of sustenance and lack of common sense!" She said, hitting her son's arm.

"Mother!" Francis cried out.

"The second I heard that you were bleeding, I thought you were dying!" She said, tears springing to her eyes. "It turns out you were stupid and not looking after yourself properly. Then again, it is the servants' faults and I will be speaking to them about this! This wretched plague... Dear God, what are we going to do with you?"

Mary turned to Catherine. "He will be fine. I will look after him."

Catherine wanted to say something snarky but she stopped herself. "Very well. I will return to my chambers. But any-"

"We will call you if he gets worse," Mary said. "And he won't so do not worry."

"My son's life is in your hands," Catherine finished, pointing at Mary and Nostradamus before she left.

Mary turned back to her husband. "I love you, Francis."

"I love you too, Mary," he said, turning to give Nostradamus a thankful smile. "If that is all, do you mind excusing us?"

Nostradamus smiled knowingly. "Of course, Your Majesties. Rest well. I will check on you tomorrow morning."

"Thank you," Francis told him, the couple watching him leave. He turned back to his wife. "Now that they're gone..."

Mary blushed. "You're up for that? Surely you must rest."

"I believe my wife can help me in more ways than one," Francis said, his lips attacking her neck as she moaned in pleasure.

Mary bit her lip. "Francis..."

"Mary..." He said, against her skin. It made her shiver and he smirked.

"Fine," she relented, bringing his lips to hers as her fingers found his hair.

"Papa, Mama!"

"Oh for the love of-"

"My sweetlings!" Francis said, turning away from Mary just in time to catch his daughters in his arms. "Mama and I were just talking about Rose's birthday."

Rose gasped. "Really?"

"Yes," Mary said, playfully rolling her eyes. "We can't tell you anything though."

"Don't worry, Rose. At least we know what we are going to wear!" Anne told her sister. "Mama, Papa, come and play with us!"

Mary sighed, giving Francis a forlorn look. "Can you give Papa and me a few minutes?"

"You have five minutes," Anne told them. "Come on, Rose! Let's annoy Auntie Kenna."

"Uh oh," Francis said as the girls ran off. "Anne's a little devious girl isn't she?"

Mary laughed. "We'll deal with that later," she told him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "She's given us five minutes."

"Are you sure that's enough time?"

Mary batted her eyelashes. "It will never be enough time, but we have a lifetime together to make up for it," she whispered, kissing him deeply.


	44. A Tired Queen

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**Guest (1) [chapter 43]: I am ;)**

**Guest (2) [chapter 43]: Yeah, Mary will be focusing on making her man feel better now. They really are! And thanks so much! Here's another chapter :)**

** Guest (3) [chapter 43]: It won't be a permanent thing haha! Just needed some teasing between brothers.**

** Guest (4) [chapter 43]: You're welcome! :D Same, I've read all and thanks so much for saying that, you're making me cry, haha. When I first started, I never imagined it being this popular. Here's the next chapter. And ooh, can't let you in on anything but I can confirm there will be a special ;) And the special will definitely include Frary and kids moments! I missed you too! For the Christmas special, I guess I will let you all on one thing. Anne and Catherine showdown. ;) But no more! **

** Guest (5) [chapter 43]: Here's the next update! :)**

****Guest (6) [chapter 43]: Here's the next chapter! :)****

* * *

"Papa?" Rose called him quietly as she laid her head on his lap.

"Yes, Rosie?"

Rose smiles. "What did you get me for my birthday?"

"Now, that's a secret," he whispered into her ear before tickling her.

She giggled, squirming in his grip before admitting defeat. "I surrender, Papa! I surrender!"

"That was quick."

"I don't want to be tickled!" She replied, giggling. "When can we ride our ponies?"

"Not now," Mary replied, looking up from the book she was reading the boys. "Right now, there is a terrible sickness that is going around and we do not want to catch it."

Anne sighed heavily. "Why can't we just put the sick people somewhere else?"

"It doesn't work that way, my love," Francis told her. "The plague... It's hard to explain now but when you are older, you will understand."

"John Phillip said he was born in the last plague," Anne told them. "Is that true?"

"It is," Francis mumbled.

"Then he wasn't sick. Why-"

"The plague can kill people, Anne," Francis said. "You do not only get sick but you die."

Anne gasped and turned to Rose who was just as shocked. "What? Do they go to Heaven?"

"Or hell," Mary muttered lowly. "Look, why don't you both join your brothers and me in some light reading?"

"We have to save everyone!" Rose said. "They can't _die_. Uncle Bash is out there!"

Francis brought the girls into his arms. "Your uncle is what you call 'immune' to the plague. He can't get sick and that is why he is helping save people. I am not immune, nor your mother or your brothers so we have to stay protected and sheltered away so we don't catch it."

Rose nodded sadly. "Can you sing us a song?"

"My voice isn't as good as your mother's. Are you sure?" Francis asked, laughing a little.

"Yes," Anne said, nodding excitedly.

Francis playfully rolled his eyes. "Oh, go on then."

...

Come night, Francis stood by the window and stared at the sky. He hadn't done so in a while, the beauty of the stars above taking his breath away. He would rest soon, but now he wanted to remain in the moment.

"Papa?"

"Rose, why aren't you sleeping?" Francis asked her, lifting her up onto his hip.

Rose shrugged. "I can't sleep."

"I think Auntie Kenna ruined your bedtime," he replied. "Don't worry, you can watch the stars with me."

They turned to the window and looked up. A few moments later, Rose gasped and pointed at something flashing from the sky. She grinned, turning to look at Francis.

"Papa, what was that?"

Francis's heart sank, but he smiled anyway. "A falling star."

"Look, there are more!" Rose gasped happily.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Francis asked softly, knowing the meaning of the fallen stars. He turned to her again. "When we have a falling star, we need to make a wish. That wish could come true."

Rose looked at him and nodded. "I wish that you and Mama got back together so we can be a happy family again," she whispered, placing her small hands on his cheeks.

Francis's eyes watered and he brought her head to his lips, placing a long kiss on it. "Rosie, no matter what, we will _always_ be a happy family. You, your sister and your brothers are so important to your mother and me. Your happiness is all that counts. If we're together or not, you and your siblings will still be happy."

Rose looked up to stare into his eyes. "Promise?"

"I promise you," he whispered, hugging her. "My darling daughter..."

Her eyes closed and soon he heard soft snores coming from her. His eyes returned to the sky and he sighed heavily, knowing that the plague had started. Just like the last time it happened.

Sending a silent prayer above, he turned away from the window and carried his daughter back to her bed.

...

Kenna sipped her drink, her eyes scanning the words of the romance novel she was reading. Robin and Anastasia were asleep for the night and the candle was giving her a warm, relaxing aura which meant she could finally get around to reading the books she put off ready.

She laughed at herself. She never used to be like this. Times like tonight, she would be still partying until dawn or making love to Bash all night long, not caring whoever heard them. She certainly had grown up, now a mother of two, almost three.

Frowning, she heard a scuffle by the door and she struggled to get up from her seat. When she was standing, she walked over and used the wall to help her get low to collect the letter that had been shoved underneath the door.

She turned it over and saw her name written in Bash's handwriting. Blushing, she returned to her seat with a sigh of relief, the mere exercise taking a lot out of her, but her husband probably did that purposefully, knowing she couldn't command their son to fetch things for her.

Opening up the letter, she read its contents.

_'Kenna,_

_Remember the first time we saw the stars fall together? I love you._

_Bash'_

Kenna turned to the window and tears sprung to her eyes when she realised that the stars were falling. The plague. Her heart clenched the first time she found out the meaning, right after she and Bash confessed their love for each other the first time ever.

Her husband was a hero, she was proud of him. And moments like this, with the letter in her hand and that simple sentence, made her very certain that she loved him and him only. She was happy to be his wife, the wife of France's undisputed hero who used to be the most hated man. Not anymore, she told herself. Her husband was Sebastian de Poitiers, the second most important man in France and someone who would fight for everyone.

"I love you more, Bash," she whispered into the air, her eyes never leaving the sky as tears slid down her cheeks. "Be safe and come home to us..." Or she would kill him herself.

...

"Mary?" Francis whispered, shaking his wife awake.

Mary opened her eyes slowly, feeling Anne's body behind her back and James's by her chest. "Francis?" She asked groggily.

"Let's go back to James's bedchamber," Francis told her. "I've made a makeshift bed from the chaises. It's surprisingly comfortable."

"Well, you do need the rest," Mary mumbled, gently coaxing herself out of her children's grips. "Where's Rose?"

"Behind Anne," Francis whispered, helping his wife.

Her feet touched the ground and they tiptoed out of Anne's bedchamber, making their way towards James's. When they entered, they closed the door quietly behind them and went to the chaises, collecting spare pillows and blankets as they went.

"I just wanted to sleep beside you," Francis told her once they were settled on their new bed.

Mary smiled tiredly, cupping his cheek. "I've missed sleeping beside you. I had nightmares when we weren't and... I drank to get rid of them."

"Go easy on the wine," Francis whispered. "Too much can make you sick."

"I know," she said, kissing him deeply. "After the plague... Can I return to our bed?"

Francis nodded, brushing her hair from her eyes. "Of course. I want nothing more than to have you in our bed, in my arms."

She smiled in relief and kissed him again, leaning her forehead against his after. "You are my start, my middle and my end."

"I love you, Mary."

"I love you too, Francis," she replied, wrapping an arm around his neck and kissing him.

The kiss became fervent and he rolled onto his back, his arms around her waist as she now laid on his chest. He sighed breathlessly as her lips left his lips and began making their way down his face, neck and chest.

"Mary..."

"Shh," she whispered, running her hand down his chest as she pressed kissed on his stomach. "We have a lot to make up for."

Francis chuckled softly. "Is child number six on the horizon?"

"Dear God, no. Let my body rest for now," she replied, laughing. "We had the girls close together and now the boys..."

"Another five or six years then," Francis said.

Mary lifted her head. "I will think about it," she said, smirking before nipping at the skin under his belly button. "I'd have dreams of this..."

"I read your diary," Francis confessed.

"I know," she replied, coming back up to hover over him. "Well?"

Francis didn't say anything and Mary swallowed nervously. He continued to stare into her eyes as his hand made its way over to her thigh, lifting her nightdress up and sliding around to her front.

Mary blinked in surprise. "Is that your way of following through?"

"You missed my gentle kisses. My love and affection. My touch and sweet words... I want to make love to you and stay," he said quietly.

Tears sprung to her eyes and she smiled. "And not leave me straight after?"

"I don't want to leave you _ever_."

"The last time we... Was that you using me?" Mary asked softly. "You said it didn't mean anything. That you missed the things people took for granted."

Francis looked away. "I was hurting. I'm sorry. I... shouldn't have said that. It meant something, of course, it did!" He looked at her hurt eyes. "Sex with Olivia was never exciting. It was just something to get over you. Sex with Lola... Now _that_ didn't mean anything."

"Yet you produced a male child."

"I did," he replied. "And I will forever be making it up to you for doing that to you."

Mary nodded. "And every other woman?"

"You are the only one that makes me feel alive when we make love or have sex," Francis breathed out, reaching up to cup her cheek. "I don't know any other woman but you."

He pulled her down and flipped them over to that he was now on top. His mouth pressed against hers and he bit softly at her bottom lip before pushing his tongue into her mouth to mould against hers. Her hands went to his shoulders as his hands cupped her cheeks to secure her face in place.

"Don't," Mary started. "Don't be gentle tonight. I want... I want it to be desperate but loving. Rough but safe." She blushed. "Do you... understand that?"

Francis chuckled softly. "I do." He gripped the ends of her nightdress and pulled it over her head, his lips attacking her exposed breasts. "Aren't I lucky that you are nursing?"

She laughed, pressing kisses on the top of his head before closing her eyes and sighing happily. "Oh, God..."

...

When the sun shone through the curtains, Mary's eyes opened and she felt her husband dig his face into her back. She giggled, pulling the blanket up to protect their modesty.

"You're not a morning person anymore?" She asked, turning to face him.

Francis scowled. "I want to stay here all day with you," he said, brushing his finger over her cheek. "My wife."

"My husband," she replied in kind before kissing him deeply.

She shifted so she was on top of him and continued to kiss him, one of his arms winding around her hip and the other below it as his hand found her right bum cheek and squeezed.

"Francis!" She squealed.

"Exactly the reaction I wanted," he said, kissing her. "I forgot how beautiful you looked in the morning sunlight."

Mary blushed, her hair falling over her eyes. "Be quiet."

"It's true," he told her. "There is nothing more attractive than natural beauty. You put all the other queens to shame."

Mary chuckled and rested her head on the crook of his neck. "No, I do not."

"You do."

"I do not."

"You do."

"I do not."

"You do not."

"I do," she whispered before narrowing her eyes. "You tricked me!"

Francis laughed. "You are too gullible!"

She smacked him and got off him, her back on the chaise once more. "Until the plague is over, our days will be spent making love and taking care of our children."

"It will," he agreed. "But for now, the making love part sounds much favourable."

Mary seductively bit her lip, giving him a wink. "Come and get it then."

"You are not tired?"

"I am," she said. "But I'm not too tired to make endless love with you."

Just as he was about to kiss her, she yawned and he snorted, shaking his head. "So, I'm boring you now?"

Mary grinned. "Hurry up before I change my mind. Oh, and before the children wake up."


	45. A Genius Plan From The Queen

**Replies to reviews:**

**BlerBlerBler [chapter 44]: There are lots more to come! **

**Guest (1) [chapter 44]: The first bit is for you ;)**

**Guest (2) [chapter 44]: Thank you! :) And awh, thanks so much! I have a little bit more time to get back updating so more Frary moments and more Frary/children moments to come! Yes, there would be some teacher-Frary for the kids coming up really soon! The girls are always well behaved mostly around their parents, although Anne does test Mary at times whenever Francis isn't around. It reminds me when the couple went for their secret getaway and the girls fought in the care of their aunt and uncle. We'll have some Anne/Rose moments that make or break their siblingship. Thanks so much, I love you all too! **

**Guest (3) [chapter 44]: Don't tell Anne this, but Rose is my favourite ;) She's so well-behaved but she does have her moments like the time in Scotland when she got upset with her mother from not seeing Francis in so long. And yes, Frary is back and getting stronger!**

**Guest (4) [chapter 44]: Oh, Anne is going to notice alright ;) Thank you, love! :)**

**Guest (5) [chapter 44]: Girl, thank you xx! Thank you so much, you all inspire me to update as regularly as possible! I love this story with all my heart and you all as well! xx.**

**Guest (6) [chapter 44]: Here's the next update :D And thanks so much! You're very welcome! There will be more family sleepovers to come ;)**

**Guest (7) [chapter 44]: I did think about that. I was going to dedicate a chapter to it, like a little bit of tension between Frary as they are still in the early stages of getting back together. They will both explain to each other the 'deep dark thoughts'. It will be healthy and enable them to move on and yes, be perfect again.**

****elder 441 [chapter 44]: Yes, it is :D You're welcome!****

* * *

"Don't move, Papa!"

"Oh, Anne! I am getting stiff from sitting here," Francis told his eldest daughter. "How is the drawing?"

Anne stuck her tongue out a little, putting on the finishing touches. "Nearly... done!"

She turned the paper around and showed her father a poorly drawn portrait of him. Not that he would ever tell her that. Children needed encouragement, not harsh critical pointers.

"Anne, you are such an artist!" He said proudly, wondering how this could be compared to the beautiful mural the girls did with their mother and James. Some people could draw from imagination better than from a still object. "Wonderful, it looks just like me."

"From the hair to the crooked nose," Mary teased him, walking by to get one of the twins from the crib who had started to cry.

Francis feigned hurt. "My nose is not crooked still, is it?"

"A little," Anne replied, giggling when he pouted. "But you are still the most handsome man in the whole of France!"

Francis grinned, lifting her onto his lap and peppering kisses all over her face. "Don't tell your siblings this," he whispered into her ear. "But you are my favourite because you said that."

Anne giggled, eyeing her sister who was playing with her dolls. "I won't, Papa."

"Good," he replied. "I am going to go to check on your brothers. Why don't you play with the dolls and Rose?"

Anne nodded and jumped off his lap, going over to her sister as Francis stood up and joined Mary by the window where she sat on the rocking chair. He pressed a kiss on her head and then on Joseph's.

"Can you tell them apart?" He asked his wife.

Mary nodded. "Joseph's hair is darker than Peter's. Peter is blonde, and Joseph is bordering on brunette," she told him.

"At first, I got them mixed up despite their hair colours," Francis said softly. "Joseph looks very much like Anne when she was born."

"Do not play favouritism between the girls," Mary told him, looking up. "You know how Anne gets when it comes to that. She will shove it in Rose's face and Rose is sensitive."

"Rose is a tough girl. Favourite or not, she is still my daughter. She's also stronger than we think."

Mary sighed and looked back down at the baby she was feeding. "Joseph and Peter are the Dukes of Dundee. I had the official letter come through."

"Why did it go to you?" Francis frowned.

"I don't know," Mary whispered, looking up at him. "Do not make a thing out of this. Either way, Scotland still sees me as her queen and I will take on matters concerning my birth country."

Francis nodded once. "Very well. I did ask for some time to recover and I suppose it would have gone to Bash first before you."

"Exactly," Mary said, looking back down. "Which province of France would they have?"

"Brittany and Touraine respectively," Francis replied. "Where is James?"

Mary looked around. "Oh, with Ana. They're obsessed with each other and Kenna doesn't mind the extra child to look after. I thought it would be easier to deal with the twins as the girls mind their own."

"Well, we are not going to fall apart without the help of governesses," Francis said, smiling. "We can look after our own children."

Mary chuckled. "You won't be saying that when Joseph or Peter empty their bowels for us to clean and change."

Francis winced. "I do not think I have ever dealt with excrement."

"It is time for you to learn," his wife replied, grinning mischievously.

"I can't believe you did that!" Anne screamed.

The couple turned over to where Anne pushed Rose onto the ground, turning to grab her doll and glare at her sister.

"You do not know how to brush her hair!" Anne cried out, clutching the toy to her chest. "You do not know how to do anything and that is why Papa said that _I'm_ his favourite!"

Rose gasped, her light brown eyes watering as her breathing began to get heavier. "Wh-What?"

"Anne!" Mary snapped, already getting up as Francis walked over to the girls.

"Anne, can you go to Auntie Kenna and wait with her until we call for you?" Francis asked, holding a finger out to his wife to stop.

Anne scowled but walked away, Rose turning away from them all. She brought her knees to her chest and closed her eyes, stopping her tears from falling. She wasn't a crybaby like Anne kept calling her.

"Rose?"

"Hmm," she hummed, muffled.

Francis sighed, taking a seat on the ground beside her. "Rose, can you look at me, please?"

Rose shook her head, sobs escaping her lips. "No one loves me," she whispered.

"What makes you say that?"

"You and Mama always listen to Anne because she's the oldest and you spend time with James or the twins. You leave me out," Rose told him. "This week has been the only week you've spent time with _me_. I was tired last night, but I wanted to spend time with you."

Francis sighed heavily. "Do you know how many siblings I have?"

Rose shook her head. "No..."

"I have more siblings. I am one of many siblings," Francis told her. "Growing up was hard for me. Even if I was the heir to the throne."

"Why?" Rose asked, looking up finally.

Francis smiled sadly. "I was confined to this castle. I was never allowed beyond the gardens except for special occasions. Bash was our father's favourite because the things he couldn't do with me, he was able to freely do with him. I was jealous, you can ask your uncle."

"Did... Did your papa still love you even though Uncle Bash was his favourite?"

Francis nodded. "He did, and my mother's favourite was Elisabeth. No one could compare to her Lissie. That did not mean that the rest of us were not loved by them. In fact, our parents made up for it even more. I had so many presents over the years, I didn't know what to do with them when I no longer liked them. Regardless of how many there are of you, I love you so much, Rose."

"So do I," Mary said, coming over and getting on the ground on Rose's other side. "Honestly, when you were born, you were one of the most beautiful things I'd ever seen. I couldn't stop being happy, I was overjoyed when I was told that we were having you." A few white lies never hurt anyone. Not that she would ever admit wanting her to be a son as opposed to a daughter.

Rose blushed. "Really, Mama?"

"Really," she replied. "Rose, I do not know what it is like to have many siblings. I led a very complicated childhood and your father has more experience than I when it comes to siblings. What I can tell you is that no matter what, you and Anne will always be sisters and it may seem that she doesn't love you but I can assure you that she _does_."

"Auntie Kenna said that Anne would need me when we are older. Would she really?"

Francis smiled. "She will always need you, Rose. You're the only sister she has and when the time comes that she needs those close to her, you will be there. You will be her first point of contact."

Rose sighed sadly. "Will she stop pinching me and pulling my hair?"

"I would hope so because that is certainly not how we brought you up to do," Mary said sternly. "Papa and I will speak with her and then you both will come back here and be told a few things about how to love and respect each other. Things need to change, your relationship can't be full of hurt and tantrums."

"It's not me!" Rose cried out, her tears returning. "It's always _her_. You never believe me!"

"Rose-"

"I wish she was not my sister!"

Mary gasped, sharing a worried glance with Francis. "Rose, how... how can you say that?"

"When Robin and I were taken, I knew that she would be happy that I was gone!" Rose sobbed. "She wants you all to herself!"

Francis brought her into his arms, pressing a kiss onto her head. He winced when she fought against him before giving up and digging her face into his shoulder. Out of all of their children, Rose took after him a lot.

She had his caring side, resilience, she was understanding and strong. On the other hand, she was also the storm after the calm. Her wrath, similar to his underneath their kind and gentle hearts. Francis saw himself in her and perhaps that is why he favoured Anne. Rose was his spitting image and personality, he needed Anne's boisterous behaviour to balance things out.

"Anne was more heartbroken than we were," Francis said gently. "I'm sorry you feel this way about her."

Rose closed her eyes. "I just want her to like me..."

Mary's heart broke and she kissed Rose's head, resting her forehead on the side of Rose's, her lips near her daughter's ear. "Anne more than likes you. She adores you. We all adore you."

Mary got up and brought Rose into her arms, allowing Francis to stand up as they walked into the next chamber where Anne was busy scowling with her doll in her hands. Kenna gave Mary an exasperated look before returning her attention to Ana and James who were being shown a book by Robin.

"Marie Anne?" Francis said firmly.

Anne looked up at her father. "Yes, Papa?"

"Your mother and I need to talk to you," he told her as Mary placed Rose on the ground beside Robin.

The Queen returned to the other chamber and Anne followed behind her with Francis closing the door behind them. Mary turned to glower at her eldest child, her hands resting in front of her, folded.

"Am I in trouble?" Anne asked fearfully.

"Do you pinch Rose and pull her hair?" Mary asked calmly as Francis joined her side with his arms crossed.

Anne nodded a little. "Only when she d-doesn't l-listen..."

"That is _no_ excuse, Anne and you know it," Francis snapped gently. He wasn't going to be too harsh but she did need to learn. "I am disappointed, Anne."

Anne bowed her head. "I didn't mean to disappoint you."

"Why do you hurt your sister?" Mary asked her. "What is it about her that-"

"I'm jealous!" Anne screamed out. "She looks like Papa and everyone tells me that _all the time_! They always say she is older because she is pretty and blonde with Mama's eyes! Robin even called her 'lovely' and said that I was 'too much'. Then I heard Grandpapa Robert say to Uncle Douglas that they took Rose because the bad people thought _she_ was the oldest and Papa's true daughter. Everyone thinks I'm a bastard."

Her parents gasped.

"Who thinks that?!" Mary demanded.

"N-No one said that but I _know_-"

"So, you have no evidence that someone thinks you are not my child?" Francis asked, kneeling down to lift her chin up so their eyes met.

Anne shook her head. "Rose always gets complimented."

"Anne," Mary started softly. "You and Rose are a perfect mix of us both. Rose took after me mostly when she was born, only she had blonde hair. Your hair favours many of my Scottish relatives and your blue eyes are all your father's."

"I know I say that you are my favourite," Francis said. "But I say that to make you feel better. To stop you from being jealous and acting out like today. But perhaps, I shouldn't have. Because Rose felt that I didn't pay her enough attention as I do you or James or even the twins."

"The middle child always gets the least attention," Mary said sadly. "But they will become independent sooner and learn to solve things themselves. Perhaps your father and I have spoilt you too much, Anne."

Anne nodded ashamedly. "I'm sorry."

"We do not seek an apology. That needs to be directed at Rose," Francis replied.

Anne sniffled. "Okay... What about John?"

"What about John?" Francis asked, frowning.

"Surely he feels jealous that... that you spend a lot of time with all of us except him," Anne stated. "He told us that sometimes it feels like you're not his papa."

Mary swallowed deeply. "Anne, I am going to call Rose inside now and we are-"

"Anne, the situation with John is complicated. When you are older, you will understand," Francis said, cutting his wife off. "There are a lot of things that happened in the past which is very complicated to get into, but when it is time, I will explain it. Your mother and I will explain it."

"Okay," Anne whispered. She wiped her tears and sniffled. "I will say 'sorry' to Rose now."

Mary smiled in relief and went to retrieve her second child. "Rose, Anne has something to say to you."

Rose hid behind Mary's skirts. "Yes?"

Sighing, Anne walked up to them and peeked around the side to look at her little sister. "Hello."

"Hello," Rose whispered sadly.

"I'm sorry, Rosie. I didn't mean to get upset. It's just... the doll is really important to me and she likes her hair brushed in a way only I can do," Anne explained, blowing out a puff of air. "I should have taught you and not get angry."

Rose buried her face in Mary's skirts but Francis lifted her up into his arms and gently coerced her face to look down at Anne. "Fine."

"Do you accept Anne's apology?" Francis asked.

Rose nodded. "I do," she mumbled, playing with a button on his shirt. "Can I play with Robin now? Ana and James like our reading."

Francis placed her back down. "Go on," he replied, watching her leave quickly before turning to Anne. "Anne, as punishment, I will confiscate your doll for the night."

"But-"

"No 'buts', Anne," Mary told her. "You will also go to bed earlier this night."

Anne gasped. "Mama!"

"If you complain, we will add tomorrow night as well."

The girl gasped before letting out a disgruntled scream. "No!"

"Tomorrow night it is then," Mary said, raising her eyebrow at her husband to see if he would dispute it.

Francis raised his hands in defence. "What Mama says, goes."

"Your father is very wise," Mary said lightly. "You would be lucky to marry someone like him when you are older."

Anne scoffed. "Can I go now?"

"Lose that attitude and yes, you can," Mary told her.

Anne ran off and Mary turned to her husband with a heavy sigh. She didn't know what to do next, the governess mostly took care of the girls' little tantrums and arguments. In Scotland, she was away from them most of the time and now, actually parenting her girls hands-on and not every now and then made her feel tired from all the drama her children caused.

"Should we keep them separate for the night? To reduce tensions?" She asked him.

"I'm sure that Anne has learnt her lesson," he replied, bringing her into his arms. "They were easier when they were little."

"Maybe it's been underneath our noses this whole time," she said. "The girls' strained relationship. Perhaps we should fix that."

Francis sighed. "How?"

"Letters."

"Letters?"

"We tell the girls to write down everything they love about each other and everything they dislike about each other to each other. Hopefully more positive than negative, but we should see where we can fix their sistership. If we peek inside them before giving them to the girls."

Francis smiled. "Mary, you genius!"

"I try," Mary said, kissing him. "I try."


	46. A Smart Queen

**Replies to reviews:**

**elder441 [chapter 45]: They are :). They would want to reduce tension so separate them before bringing them together to solve things. Yes, Mary and their children will be first in his priority, then France and finally, his extended family, including John. The girls are young, they don't understand nor does John and although Mary may be quick to sweep that under the carpet, Francis acknowledges it and gives himself time to explain how circumstances are so his priorities lay foremost to his wife and the children she gave him.**

**Guest (1) [chapter 45]: Yes, same here, haha! Anne has always been a little bit of a bully, her ideology of being a princess getting to her head. As much as Frary is the sort to be hands-on parents, they do have other duties and they failed in teaching Anne empathy and compassion or her slight lacking in those qualities. Although she will improve, she as a teenager would be a wild ride. The first bit is for you ;)**

**Guest (2) [chapter 45]: She is! I love Rose so much as she's a wonderful soul, too bad her sister is jealous of that.**

**Guest (3) [chapter 45]: This chapter is for you ;)**

****Next chapter will be Christmas with Frary and family. The aftermath of the plague will be explained in a summary. I'd like to post the Christmas chapter in the spirit of Christmas so just in case this is not released before but after, Merry Christmas!****

* * *

"Alright, I've fetched water to clean the boys' cloths. Kenna has already changed James's for us," Mary told her husband, placing the bucket down by the chaise where their sons laid kicking and moving about.

Francis winced. "Do I have to?"

"You wanted to!"

"If I recall correctly, it was you who suggested the idea," Francis replied, grinning as he undid the string wrapped around the cloth on Joseph's stomach. He then paled. "Oh, God, the smell!"

Mary giggled. "Keep going."

He pulled back and worked with his hands stretched before him, taking the cloth off and dumping it in the empty bucket. He then lifted the baby up and cleaned his soiled bottom in the bathtub before drying it with a towel and placing the child back beside his twin brother.

"Here is the new cloth," Mary said, handing him the cloth and string.

"He moves a lot," her husband muttered, attaching the fresh cloth nappy and tying a string around it. He fastened the string with bows and clapped his hands in success.

Mary shook her head in amusement. "And do the next one," she said.

Francis gasped. "What?"

"Do Peter's next!"

"Dear God," Francis muttered, moving onto quickly changing Peter's soiled nappy, cleaning his bottom and changing him into a fresh one, the strings tied into secure bows.

Mary clapped in pride. "We are not done."

"We are not?"

"Kenna will look after them as Ana and James sleep," Mary started, getting up from her knees. "We have to get the girls started on their letters and clean these cloths for next time."

Francis let out an exasperated sigh. "Why can't we just have a fresh one for each-"

"Francis, we are not wasteful in this household," Mary tutted. "Come along now, we have to be quick so they dry in time."

Francis lifted both babies into his arms and he entered the next chamber, spotting Kenna reading a book as the other two babies slept and the children were quietly playing with each other.

"I've bought the cots over," Kenna said, getting up to help him place Joseph into one. "How is fatherhood?"

Francis chuckled. "Mary has me on a tight leash. I am learning a lot and surprisingly attracted to her assertiveness and authority."

"Does that mean child number-"

"Don't you say it," Francis cut her off, laughing as he put Peter in the other cot. "Otherwise you and Mary will be having words."

Kenna giggled. "You better get back to your fatherly duties, Your Majesty."

"I really should, otherwise Mary would-"

"Francis?"

"And this is where I leave you and relieve you of your care of Anne and Rose," Francis said, calling his daughters to his sides and entering the chamber where his wife was.

Mary turned to them, her eyes falling onto the girls. "Right, pick up a sheet of paper and a pen and get writing."

Rose frowned. "Writing what?"

"You will know soon," her father said, handing the girls paper each. He then gave them pens. "Listen to your mother for your next instructions."

Mary directed Anne to the desk and Rose to the vanity table. Both girls had their backs to each other and she looked between them.

"I want you to write a list about all the things you dislike about each other," Mary told them.

"What?" Anne asked in surprise.

"Yes, now get writing!"

The Queen turned and faced her husband, pointing to the buckets. She grinned when he rolled his eyes and got to work, cleaning the dirty cloths with lavender. Mary herself sat down on the chaise and pulled her feet up, enjoying the silence.

She fell into a short nap, being awoken twenty minutes later where she found her husband putting up the cloths to dry and her daughters with their pens down.

"Are you done?"

"Yes," the three said before they burst into laughter.

Mary giggled herself. "Well, Francis, you need to prepare James's meal. He will get hungry when he wakes up. And girls, list down all the things you love about each other."

The three got to work and Mary left the chamber to see how Kenna was doing with the boys. She smiled when she saw James in Kenna's arm with his thumb in his mouth. He had woken before Ana and was feeling quite lonely so Mary sat beside Kenna and started pulling faces at her son.

"Such a calm baby," Kenna said. "I feel so winded, watching the children come and go."

Mary grinned. "Sorry about that."

"It keeps me busy."

"Will you consider having more?" Mary asked her. "After this one?"

Kenna felt Mary place a hand on her bump. "I don't know. I think you and Francis are more suited to many children than Bash and I are. With Bash taking up his duties as King's Deputy and me overlooking our assets, I doubt we would have time enough to see the children we do have right now."

"That is fair," Mary said. "Well, I will wait with you until my husband and daughters are finished with their chore or writing."

"How kind of you," Kenna replied. "You and your beloved husband have been spending all this private time in bed as I am here looking after every child under the sun and my husband runs about the castle."

Mary laughed. "Well, what can I say? We missed each other a lot."

...

Mary and Francis sat in between their daughters on the carpet. Each girl had a letter gripped in her tiny hands and their parents shared a nervous glance before turning back to Anne and Rose.

"Who would like to go first?" Francis asked.

Rose raised her hand. "May I go first, Papa?"

"Of course," Francis told her. "Now, tell us all the things you don't like about Anne."

Rose nervously bit her lip before scanning her writing. "Um... S-She pulls my hair. Calls me names. Pinches me. She laughs too loud. She always pulls my arm so I follow _her_. She doesn't let me speak for myself. She is Papa's favourite."

"Is that all?" Mary asked, mentally worrying about Anne's reaction.

"Yes, Mama," Rose said, placing her paper down.

Mary nodded. "Anne? It's your turn."

Anne looked down at her paper. "She's perfect. She has Papa's blonde hair. Robin likes her more than me. James likes her more than me. She is very pretty. Her smile is annoying. She is too quiet. She cries a lot."

"I do not!" Rose cried out.

"Rose," Francis gently said. "Let your sister continue."

Rose scowled and crossed her arms as Anne cleared her throat and continued to read from her list.

"She doesn't know how to brush my doll's hair. One of her eyes is bigger than the other. Her nose is too small. Oh, and she doesn't like blueberries."

"What's that got to do with...? It doesn't even matter," Mary muttered, placing a hand to her forehead in slight disdain. "Anyway, do you both agree with what the other said about you?"

Both girls shook their heads.

"I don't like blueberries," Rose admitted.

"I do hurt Rose," Anne quietly said.

"Do you both think you could work on those things?" Francis asked them. "Like helping each other with improving the other? No pinching or hair pulling or bossing people about. I am the king, only _I_ can boss people about."

"Ahem?"

"And your mother, of course," he added, giving his wife a smile. "And also being equals. Anne, you may be older but by only eleven months. Rose is your sister, not your subject."

Anne nodded. "I understand," she replied.

"Good," Mary told her. "Now, Anne, tell us all the things you love about Rose."

Anne blushed. "She's kind. She's funny, she makes me laugh. She always plays with me. She can sing really prettily. She's my best friend."

Mary beamed. "And Rose?"

"Anne is very confident," Rose began. "She's friendly. She loves animals! She looks after Olly the Dog really well. She makes me laugh. She said she missed me when... when I was taken with Robin. And she can play the piano well."

Francis shared a bright smile with his wife. "Wonderful. Now, go off and write each other a letter of apology. Your mother and I will wait."

...

Anne was first and she shoved the letter in Mary's hands, the tips of her ears bright red. She quickly sat down and waited patiently for Rose to be done which was that long at all.

"I will read Anne's apology first, shall I?" Mary said, lifting the paper to her eyesight. Reading the letters to the girls was a far better idea than having them read them alone. "'Dear Rosie, I am truly, very sorry for hurting you and your feelings today and every day before. You are the best sister I have ever had, even though you are my only sister, and I love you. I may not say it or show it, but I do. I am scared to lose you and I do not want to argue anymore. You are my only friend, my best friend and there is no one like you. Please, forgive me. Love always, Annie'."

Francis turned to Rose. "Well?"

"Thank you," Rose whispered, handing her letter to Francis.

Francis cleared his throat and began to read. "'Dear Annie, sorry for being annoying and not brushing your doll's hair properly. It is sometimes hard to be your sister because you are mean to me but I love you even though you are. You are my best friend and I hope we can be better from now on. Mama and Papa are always sad when we are not nice to each other and I do not want them to be sad. I want us to be happy and friends. I love you, always. Rosie'."

Anne smiled. "I love you too, Rosie," she said softly, bringing the blonde in for a tight hug. "I will never stop loving you. And I promise to change."

Rose closed her eyes and grinned. "Thank you."

As the girls hugged, Mary wiped a tear from her cheek, resting her head on Francis's shoulder as he wrapped an arm over her shoulders. She was so proud of their girls.

"Look what we did, Francis," she whispered.

"No, this was all you, my love," Francis told her. "All you."


	47. A Christmas Celebration With The Queen

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**BlerBlerBler [chapter 46]: She really isn't. Just a little too much at times, but she does love Rosie :)**

**elder441 [chapter 46]: They truly are and he is! I doubt many kings would even tend to a baby at all. And Merry Christmas to you and your family too :)**

**Merry Christmas everyone, to you and your loved ones! This is the Christmas special and I believe it's the first Christmas chapter of the story. So, I hope you all enjoy this.**

* * *

"Anne!"

Anne giggled, running down the halls with her cousin and sister, narrowly missing bumping into the servants who worked to make Christmas special and the guards who chuckled at their insistence at castle antics.

"Where is she?!" The Dowager Queen asked, storming out her bedchambers, her forefinger and thumb holding the tail of a mouse.

The guard bit back his smile as he simply pointed down the hallway where the three children had rounded the corner. Catherine let out a screech and stormed behind them. A queen did not run. Most especially after delinquent children.

Anne gasped when she ran into someone, almost falling down on her bottom but was quickly caught. She opened her eyes meekly and saw her uncle's green eyes.

"Anne, Rose, Robert," he said warningly. "What did you do?"

"We... put Barty the Mouse underneath Grandmama's pillow. It is a Christmas surprise!" Anne explained happily.

Bash sighed heavily. "Children-"

"Anne?! Where are you?!"

"Can we hide behind you, Papa?" Robin asked, eyes wide.

Bash rolled his eyes and shuffled the children behind the hung carpet on the wall. "Catherine," he said, greeting her with a slight bow. "Why are you holding a mouse?"

"I assume it is your son's mouse?" Catherine snapped, almost throwing the white beast into Bash's hands.

Bash's lips almost quirked upwards in a smile but he kept his posture. "Barty? By God, it is. Where is my son though?"

"And Anne and Rose, that is the question," Catherine agreed, crossing her arms. "On Christmas morning no less! Can't that girl leave me in peace or do I have to travel to Italy again? My hair is still purple from last month in the middle. It is hard for the handmaidens to hide the colour of beetroot."

Bash almost snorted. "I do not know where they went. I was making sure that everyone was doing their part for Christmas. Perhaps they are in the nursery. There is a play for the children based on the Nativity."

Catherine narrowed her eyes suspiciously when she saw the carpet shift. "There's a terrible drought, isn't there?"

"Yes, there is. I ought to get the builders on that," Bash replied easily, placing Barty in his pocket and knocking the wall. "Very draughty. Kenna was worried about our youngest catching a cold. It is a risk, for the babies."

Catherine nodded. "I guess the plague required us knocking walls down and redoing chambers all over the castle. Can you believe that a thousand souls won't see today?"

"I cannot."

"But at least you secured our grains for the foreseeable future," Catherine said, almost proudly. "We will be able to pay off our debts early next year."

"Wonderful."

"Not very talkative, are you?" Catherine asked, slowly sidling up to his side by the carpet.

Bash turned to her. "Very busy, have things to do. If I do not complete them in time, my wife won't be happy."

"Who runs your household? You or Kenna?" Catherine asked, grinning as her hand blindly gripped the end of the carpet.

"That's easy - my wife, of course," Bash said modestly. "The children and I are very lucky to have-"

The carpet was yanked down and three pairs of eyes looked up at a pair of angry ones.

"Found you."

Anne grinned. "Did you like your present, Grandmama?"

Catherine cried out in anger. "You wretched child!"

"I am not!"

"Yes, you are!"

"Am not!"

"You are!"

"Ladies!" Bash called out. "Anne, Robert, Rose, apologise to Queen Catherine. _Now_, please."

The children groaned. "Sorry, Grandmama Catherine."

Catherine rubbed her face. "You are lucky it is Christmas," she told them before turning to Bash. "Keep your son's mouse _out_ of my chambers!"

She stormed off, letting the four breathe a sigh of relief as she left. Bash turned to the children, taking Barty from his pocket and handing it over to Robin.

"The next time he isn't where he is supposed to be," Bash began, ruffling his son's hair. "I will feed him to your horse."

Robin scowled at him but grinned when he saw the smile on his father's face. "No, you won't."

"I won't," Bash admitted. "But your mother might. You know how much she hates rodents."

"Barty is nice though!" Rose said, stroking its back as Robin held it in both hands.

Bash smiled. "Your aunt won't see it that way," he said. "Go to the nursery, I have work to do."

He waited until they entered the nursery before leaving, shaking his head in amusement.

"Naughty children."

...

"That turkey is slightly bigger than James!" Mary stated as she and her husband overlooked the table being filled with food. "It isn't enough."

"Not enough?" Francis asked, eyes wide. "Shall we have the goose and duck after all?"

Mary nodded. "Perhaps the chicken too. Charles eats like a horse."

Francis laughed, placing his hand on the small of her back. "Mary, don't worry. Everything will go well."

"It's the twins' first Christmas and James's first Christmas with you, with us as a family," Mary said softly. "I do not want anything to go wrong."

Francis kissed her cheek. "Nothing will go wrong-"

"Francis, for the love of all things holy," Catherine's voice said, entering the room. She stopped, seemingly impressed at the decorations before her eyes fell on the turkey. "That won't be enough!"

Mary sighed. "I will talk to the cooks," she said, leaving them.

"Your daughter," Catherine told her son. "Your daughter is a little bi-"

"Mother!"

"I guess she is a child after all," Catherine said. "In the spirit of Christmas, I will let her go but if she attempts this again..."

Francis nodded. "I will handle her."

"Now, let's sort out this meal, shall we? The banquet won't feed five, let alone twenty!"

...

Mary sipped her wine, sending her husband a desperate look from across the table. She sat at one end and he sat at the other. The dinner was fairly boring, Catherine carrying their conversations.

The children were at a separate table, having all the fun and giggles as opposed to the adults who wined and dined and said spirited things every now and then. Mary sighed, stuffing some chicken into her mouth.

"We have the carol service at Church later on," Francis said, gaining her attention. "Is anyone up for it?"

Bash nodded. "I will join you with Robin. I think Kenna should remain here with the little ones."

"Yes," Mary agreed. "I will come, we'll bring the girls. Maybe next year, James and Anastasia can come."

"Indeed," Kenna said, sipping her wine.

Mary sighed heavily. "This is boring, isn't it?"

Francis looked up at her. "It is. Do you know what will make this better?"

"What?" Catherine asked dubiously.

"If we had the children sit with us. We can add to the table, bring their Christmas spirit-"

"They will mess the dinner up-"

"They will be better conversationalists than we are," Francis cut his mother off.

"He isn't wrong," Claude said, picking at her dinner. "I do miss Lawrence in my arms."

Francis grinned. "Then it is done." He got up and entered the next dining hall, gaining the children's attention. "Would you like to eat with us?"

The girls looked to Robin for confirmation before nodding at their father and hurrying up from their seats. They followed him into the other room where a table was being added to the end of the larger one, perfect for three new heads and a few babies in their parents' or aunts' or uncles' arms.

This time, Francis invited Mary to sit beside him, her switching seats with Bash. Everyone more or less rearranged themselves and soon, the dining hall was full of laughter and joy, most especially on the children's parts.

"Merry Christmas, Francis," Mary told her husband, taking his hand and kissing the back of it.

"Merry Christmas, Mary," Francis replied, kissing her cheek. They could save the more heated kisses for later.

...

"Rose and I have decided to give our presents away for Christmas," Anne announced after the Church service, on their way home. "To the children at the orphanage."

Francis grinned. "Would you both like to follow me to the orphanage tomorrow then?"

"Yes, Papa," Rose replied happily. "Can we pray for them as well?"

"Yes, Rose," Mary said proudly. "That is a very thoughtful idea."

Regardless of Catholic or Protestant belief, a prayer was a prayer.

"Do you think Jesus will be happy with us?" Anne asked.

Francis nodded. "He will. You two are very thoughtful girls and we are all proud of you."

The girls blushed and the rest of the carriage journey home was full of carols and singing.

"..._Noel, Noel, Noel, Noel..._"

Mary wondered how the Scots were celebrating Christmas. Would it be a happy one or a sad one? Their independence was shortlived, and they had a wonderful but sad Christmas last year.

She'd received gifts for her, Francis and the children this year from her cousins and uncle in Scotland. Along with some letters on the Scottish government and how there were fears of a Frenchman joining it. But those problems will be solved for another day, this day was for her family.

"Should we treat ourselves to some pies before bed when we get back?" She asked her husband as the girls continued to sing. "Just you and me?"

"Yes," Francis said, nudging her shoulder gently. "We should."

...

Mary undid her laces, pulling her corset and skirts down before taking off her shirt. Underneath she had red lingerie on and she smiled when she felt arms wrap around her waist the second she dropped her shirt onto the floor.

"My wife is so untidy."

"My husband is so clingy," she replied, turning in his arms to wrap her arms around his neck. "I thought I'd get into the festive mood."

Francis pulled her closer to his frame. "Well, your plan is working wonders."

"On who?"

"Me."

Mary chuckled, kissing his neck softly. "Is that so?"

Francis nodded, feeling her trail her kisses upwards. "It is."

"Shall we... move this to the bed?"

"We shall," Francis replied breathily as she started to strip him as she walked with her back towards the bed.

She knew their bedchambers like the back of her hand, the satisfaction of reaching the edge and falling onto the bed before her husband could sneak a kiss in. She laughed when he let out a dissatisfied groan, quickly leaping on her and presses butterfly kisses on her skin.

"I apologise for not getting you a gift this year," she whispered.

"Our children are enough," Francis told her. "And there is always next year."

Mary giggled. "So, what did you get me?"

"You will have to wait until next year."

"Why?" She asked, pushing him away from kissing her.

Francis smirked. "Because I didn't get anything from you this year."

Mary gasped. "The cheek!"

"Says you!"

She rolled on the bed, out of his reach and leapt from it, scouring the chambers for her gift. "What did you get me, Your Majesty?"

"Would Her Majesty like to return to our bed?" Francis cheekily replied, laying back on his pillow and watching her open trunks and look through the chaise pillows.

"No, she would not," Mary said. "Not until her gift is in her palms."

Francis playfully rolled his eyes. "Am I not enough? My handsome body, luscious curls and steadfast loyalty to you?"

Mary scoffed, almost giggling. "No."

"How rude!" Her husband gasped. "Well, then. Sex is off the table, Queen Mary."

Mary narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. She then collected her robe and put it on, sliding her velvet slippers on. "I have in-laws for a reason. Bash will know-"

"Mary!" Francis cried out, getting off the bed and catching her in his arms just before she got to the doors.

He lifted her over his shoulder and brought her back to bed, pinning her on it.

"Francis Valois!" Mary cried out in surprise.

"Mary Stuart!" He mocked her. "How dare you use my brother against me? Of course, he would know where it is hidden just as I know what he got Kenna and where it is."

Mary chuckled. "Of course. It is smart, I guess." She looked to the side. "So... What did he get her?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"Because you won't give me mine!"

"He got her a ring. A new one. His familial heirloom is getting old and worn, so I helped him source an amethyst ring. Oh, and he couldn't resist when the jeweller came with options and he also got her an ivory necklace and gold mirror."

Mary gasped. "Where's _my_ ivory necklace and gold mirror?"

Francis rolled his eyes. "Fine," he said, getting off her and getting on his knees. He reached under the bed and retrieved a large wooden jewellery box with gold detailing. He then placed it on the space beside her and she grinned happily.

She opened it up.

"Francis!" She breathed out, lifting the necklace up. "Is this onyx?"

Francis nodded. "Elizabeth had her finest jewellers make it for you. I paid for the necklace but she believed a woman should always have matching earrings, brooches and bracelets for such a masterpiece."

Mary eyes watered. "I love onyx."

"I know you do."

"I have the perfect dress for it. I will wear it for the New Year's Mass service." She looked at him. "I am really sorry I forgot to get you something."

Francis shook his head. "It doesn't matter."

"It does," Mary said, placing the necklace back. "Remember that waterfall in Avon?"

"Of course, I do."

"I think it's time that we should have a little visit," Mary said, smiling widely.


	48. A Trip To The Orphanage With The Queen

**Everything has been hectic! Had relatives over and went over to relatives as well. Ate a lot, drank a lot, partied a lot, watched a lot of films and basically tired myself out. I will also need to dedicate time to studying for exams as well as my wonderful birthday in less than two weeks or so, so updates may be scarce for now! Until then, enjoy this update! Oh, and Happy New Year depending when this goes out! In advance or otherwise.**

**I am doing this chapter's day in two parts, A Trip To The Orphanage With The Queen and A Trip To Town With The Queen.**

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****Guest (2) [chapter 47]: Here it is! And thanks so much ;) Oh, indeed! 200th review coming up :D Merry Christmas!****

* * *

After visiting a closer waterfall, Mary settled into their bed, sighing wistfully. As much as she adored the fresh smell of spring water in the Winter, she missed life's little luxuries.

A good, comfortable bed was included.

"Are you not coming to bed?"

Francis smirked. "Let me prepare my clothes for the morning. We are going to the orphanage," Francis explained, placing his shirt on the chaise. "After, I will follow Bash out the castle. We're going into town."

"What for?"

"To feed those who didn't have a single bite for Christmas," Francis replied. "I couldn't help but think about all the food we were eating as families starved. The leftovers from the Christmas dinner, we'll have them served to the homeless and the starved."

Mary sat up. "You might as well put out an outfit for me."

"You want to come?"

"Of course," Mary replied. "I believe that we should leave the girls here. They would not understand and we wouldn't want the people to be bombarded by questions from curious girls about how they live how they do. If at all."

"Understandable," Francis said, finally getting into their bed. He pressed a kiss on her lips and pulled the covers over them.

"I want to sleep," Mary said, giggling when he attacked her skin with chaste kisses. "We've already had an adventurous night. Or morning... We'll have to wake up in a few hours."

Francis grumbled but admitted defeat. "How could I resist a body like yours?"

"Behave!"

"I don't want to!"

"You sound like a child."

Francis smirked. "Is that so?"

"Go to sleep, Francis," Mary muttered lightly, turning away from him and closing her eyes happily. "Before I hit you on the arm."

"Any hit from you is like Heaven's touch," Francis replied, pressing a kiss on her exposed shoulder. "I'd want that every-"

"Dear God," Mary breathed out. Out of frustration, she didn't even know. "You are insatiable!"

Francis laid back on his side of the bed. "It's Christmas, Mary."

"And so?"

"You didn't exactly give me anything," Francis told her.

Mary grinned to herself. Sleep be damned.

She turned around and shuffled closer to him, placing a teasing kiss on his lips and then on his neck before pulling away. She cupped his cheeks and stared into his eyes.

"Don't blame me when you're falling asleep whilst giving children presents," she said before he kissed her.

...

At the orphanage, Anne opened up a trunk full of toys and turned towards the nervous but curious children that huddled behind her. She clapped her hands together and held her head high, like a queen - like her mother when she needed to gain the attention of a full room. Rose stood beside her, less confident than her older sister.

"My sister and I have come bearing gifts for you all," Anne announced happily. "You can decide which one you like."

Rose reached in and collected a football. "Does anyone like to play ball?"

A boy raised his hand, nervously shying into an older girl's arm. It made Rose beam and she walked up to him, taking one of his hands and placing the ball securely onto it.

"I hope you enjoy this," she told him before returning to the trunk.

Anne lifted a hand-stitched doll from the trunk and held it up. "It is made from the best hands," she said, eyeing the girls. "Anyone like to claim it?"

A girl stood closer and she eyed Francis and Mary who wore warm smiles and nodded encouragingly. She collected the doll and one by one, other kids became brave enough to take as they please as Rose and Anne happily handed them out, wishing them all a Merry Belated Christmas. They also promised to return for the New Year with more gifts and food much to their parents' surprise.

After sharing the gifts, the girls offered food to the children and even asked their parents if they could give them the sweets that the cooks made for them. Mary bent down to reach their ears.

"You only have five between you and there are at least twenty children here. It is better not to offer them something that can't be given to all of them," she said gently.

The girls nodded sadly and put their sweets away before going over to play with the other kids. They didn't mind the tattered clothes, asking their royal aide now and then to sew things up.

Anne even attempted to sew up a boy's shoe but failed, prickling her fingers full of bloody holes. She had stopped then, her parents covering her fingers up with salve to heal them.

"Your Majesties, we must return to the castle before your next appointment," their advisor whispered under his breath.

Francis nodded once and joined the girls who were now singing songs in French with the older children. "Anne, Rose, it is time to go."

"But Papa..." Anne whined. "We have to sing!"

Francis smiled, eyeing the orphaned children. "We can return very soon, but your mother and I have other business to attend to."

"Alright," Rose mumbled, hugging a girl 'goodbye'.

As the girls bid their farewells, Francis walked back to his wife who was speaking to the woman who ran the orphanage.

"You do not have any idea how much this meant to the children," she was saying. "Your girls will make wonderful queens, Your Majesties. They should not settle for any less than kings who will worship the ground they walk on. Their gentle hearts are needed for this harsh, cruel world... We lost so many children to the plague, so many bright minds who could have been more than the children who lost their parents... You are raising them splendidly, I pray that God continues to bless you both and your sons as well."

Mary smiled brightly. "I pray that God gives you the resources to keep taking on children. I am sorry that you have had to turn children away."

"Well, it is all God's plan. We will find a way to solve this."

"Mama!" Anne called her, coming to stand in front of them. "You know how we do a queen for a day?"

"Yes..." She said, sharing a wary glance with Francis. It was something they couldn't shake off, especially after the Penelope business with Henry.

Anne grinned. "Can we do a prince and princess for a day?"

Francis sighed. "Well, we need to be sensitive about the situation, but we will talk about it and see."

"Thank you!" The girl said, joining her sister.

"It is an idea," Mary said. "Or we could bring them all for a wonderful royal sleepover for two weeks."

"I bet many kings host orphaned children in their homes," Francis muttered. "But... I do quite like the idea. I always wanted the castle full of little, joyous feet. Children bring such joy and you do not age quicker because they make you feel young."

Mary smiled. "Then, we'll think about it."


	49. A Trip To Town With The Queen

**Happy New Year! I hope you all have a wonderful new decade and many, many blessings to you all. Thank you for your support, you are all really amazing people! x**

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* * *

"I'm quite nervous," Mary admitted when they arrived.

She accepted Francis's help out of the carriage, having to stop at the entrance of the town as it wouldn't be in good nature to enter the situation above the people. She had also dressed down, ditching her gold dress for a simpler navy dress. She wore her leather, black cloak with matching gloves and her boots. She had an idea she'd be standing for a while and did not want to blister her feet with heels.

"You don't have to be," Francis replied, his own clothes matching hers. A royal couple always matched, according to Catherine. "They're just like us."

"No, they're not," Mary said softly. "They're starving, poor and... they live in squalor as we sit comfortably in our castles."

Francis sighed. "I have plans for houses to be built in the new year," he told her. "I've bought some land, the rents will be cheap enough for them to afford."

"And what about those who cannot?"

"Bash has already sorted that out. Avon is almost rebuilt and people are looking for work," Francis replied, leading her behind their three guards as their cooks hurried along with pots full of soup, beans and the like. "Most of the workers migrated, some remained... We might even relocate some families to Scotland and England. Elizabeth has opened up some factories on our behalf."

Mary narrowed her eyes slightly. "She has?"

"Oh, I was going to tell you," Francis said dismissively. "Slipped my mind."

"It slipped your mind that it is supposed to be Elizabeth and me focusing on England's requests?"

Francis turned to her. "Mary, not now."

"We must be clear on where we stand with France, Scotland and England," Mary told him firmly. "Elizabeth wanted me to respect her wishes, I am her cousin."

"I am doing my best for all three countries," Francis replied. "The children are happy that you are focused on them mostly."

"Oh," Mary said shortly, letting go of him and joining Bash. "Did you remember to request the port?"

"I did," Bash said, briefly eyeing Francis. "Are you and Francis alright?"

Mary scowled a little. "We can talk about that later," she said, patting his arm. "Thank you for coming up with this idea."

"It was Francis's-"

"Don't be so modest, Bash," Mary cut him off. "You are one with the people after all."

Bash gave her a smile and turned to help one of the cooks with the pot she was holding. "You'll break your back, Marnie."

"Oh, my lord, you don't have to-"

"Let me," Bash insisted, leading her away as Mary turned to face Francis.

"I'm sorry," Francis said, quickly kissing her.

It made Mary sigh wistfully and she smiled. "We will be alright, won't we?"

"We will," Francis told her. "We'll do everything together. Not apart or with other people. _Together_."

Mary nodded. "Together," she promised him.

...

The event was going successfully and Mary got stuck in, filling up bowls and cups herself with a wide smile on her face as people thanked and blessed her. It seemed that this was giving her good publicity, not that she wanted it. It meant that France was slowing warming up to her again.

"I need to do something," Mary said after a while, taking her apron off.

"What?" Francis asked her, continuing to serve their subjects.

Mary gave him a smile. "A home delivery, shall we say?"

She collected a few bowls and filled them up, placing them into a basket. She put her gloves on and then her cloak before she left the building with a guard behind her.

She walked down the hill and continued for a further seven minutes before reaching a small glassblower workshop that was closed. She knocked on the door and it was answered shortly after by an elderly man who gave her a bright smile.

"Queen Mary! I wasn't expecting you so soon!" He said, letting her and her guard in.

"Well, I saw this as an opportunity," she told him, giving him the basket. "Is your wife still unwell?"

He nodded sadly. "The grandchildren visited for Christmas," he explained. "But she got worse this morning. That didn't mean that I didn't get to finish your gift to the King."

Mary smiled sadly. "I am sorry about your wife."

"Well, we had seventy years together," he said. "Got married at ten, five children, 17 grandchildren... Oh well, we led a fruitful life."

"Perry, I bought some food," she told him. "We were in town, feeding people. I couldn't come here empty-handed."

"You shouldn't have, Your Majesty," Perry replied. "Come through, I have your gift wrapped."

As he led her down the hallway to his working bench, she admired his other pieces of glasswork. He was the best glassblower in town and he often worked on pieces for months, but she had known that his wife had got very unwell, leading him to backlog on his work.

"Here it is," Perry announced, lifting a box. He opened it open and revealed the piece of art on a plush, maroon velvet pillow. "My greatest art."

Mary gasped, taking the box in her hands. "It's beautiful," she breathed out, her eyes sparkling. "Perry, I..." She turned to her guard. "Pay him triple."

"What? No, Your Majesty," Perry quickly said. "Anything for you, Your Grace. Free of charge. The food was enough."

"No," Mary said, the guard stuffing the pouch of coins into his hands. "Take this. And I invite you for dinner at Court."

"A lowly man like me will never step foot-"

"You will," Mary said, giving him a smile. "We are hosting a New Year's party. You will be there."

"Then, I can't refuse your offer."

...

When they returned to the castle, Mary led Francis to their bedchamber, her gift securely hidden within her cloak.

"You disappeared for a while," Francis stated.

Mary grinned. "I did."

"House delivery, hmm?"

Mary nodded. "Yes."

"And did you get something in return?" He asked coyly.

Mary turned around and said, "I sure did so."

She used one hand to undo the clasp of her cloak and let it fall to the ground, revealing the gift box in her hand. She handed it to him and Francis grinned, shyly opening it as if he was a schoolboy.

"What is it?"

"Look for yourself," Mary told him happily.

Francis looked down and lifted the cloth off the item. He gasped. "The fleur-de-lis."

Mary came closer. "Yes, the national flower of France - the iris. It is now forever present in the glass. It won't wilt nor die, and it represents my love for you and for France. Never-ending."

"Mary... It would have taken ages to have this made-"

"Only the best for my husband. I hadn't forgotten, it was just that my source fell into unfavourable circumstances and it was delayed," she explained. "He will be here for the New Year's party. After everything we've been through, a new year will be a new start for us all."

"Mary, I love you," Francis said, kissing her. "I have the perfect place for this."

He led her to his offices and removed a ruby off of a stand on the fireplace. It was a gift from an Arabian prince. Now that stand held the spherical gift his wife gave him. In the centre of everything.

"Can you help me clear my desk?"

Mary frowned. "What for? You wish to do Spring cleaning _now_?"

"Oh, not for Spring cleaning," Francis told her, removing some documents and placing them on another table.

Mary still didn't catch on. "You'd like to sit on the table and admire my gift to you?"

"You really are oblivious," Francis muttered lightly before capturing her lips in a deep kiss, his hands cupping her cheeks.

Mary giggled when he pulled away. "I see now," she said as he pressed her against the edge of the table. She began to undo his shirt. "I'm guessing you love your gift?"

"Oh, I do," Francis said, reaching behind her to blinding undo her laces. "I love it very much. And Mary?"

"Yes?" She asked, looking up at him through her lashes.

"My love for you is never-ending too."

Mary gasped in happiness. "Then show me."

That evening, the desk became something other than a place to work.


	50. A Loss For The Queen

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**We're going to be going five years into the future. This was decided because of you guys and also, in celebration of the fiftieth chapter so the number five was fitting. Here are the children's new ages from eldest to youngest.**

**Anne (Francis and Mary's eldest child), 17th June - 12 **

**Robin (Bash and Kenna's eldest child), 8th August - 12**

**Rose (Francis and Mary's second daughter and child), 25th May - 11**

**James (Francis and Mary's first son and third child), 30th January - 6**

**Anastasia (Bash and Kenna's second child), 13th February - 6**

**Lawrence (Claude's only child), 27th February - 5**

**Joseph and Peter (Francis and Mary's fourth and fifth children), April 1st - 5**

****Alexander (Bash and Kenna's third child), July 21st - 5****

* * *

"I can't believe you got me pregnant again," Mary muttered, rubbing her stomach as she used her fan to blow away the heat.

It was incredibly hot for early August, a few days after their eldest nephew's 12th birthday and Mary shielded her eyes from the sun. She could hear the children playing around, playing fetch with Olly the Dog and Willow, Bash and Kenna's new French Spaniel dog they got for their son's birthday.

"Stop complaining," her husband said proudly. "You look beautiful. And you love being pregnant with my children."

Mary glared at him which made Francis grin even more before he turned to see their three youngest so far trying to lift a howling Willow off the ground.

"Put her down!" Francis told the boys. "She hates being picked up."

"Remind me why we're looking after eight children again?" Mary asked, blowing a puff of air from her mouth.

Francis turned to his wife. "Because you told Bash and Kenna to go to Portugal for some alone time when I told you not to," he said, chuckling. "I don't mind. I missed the children."

Mary nodded. "We barely see them," she said sadly. "Apparently, they're thinking of sending Robin to Scottish Court as my cousin's ward."

"I'm trying to sway Bash's mind into having him attend French Court instead-"

"He'll never go for it," Mary muttered. "Relations in France are tense. We must seek a stronger council."

Francis nodded. "I will start seeking the appropriate channels," he replied. "And what of England?"

"Everything is fine in England," Mary replied, shifting from her seat to stand. "It's too hot. Let's take the children and dogs to the lake."

Her husband got up. "A whole month of being away from French Court with days full of trips to the lake," he said with a wide smile. "Come on then."

Mary grinned and walked over to James, Joseph, Peter and Alexander. "Hold hands, boys! We're going to the lake to cool off!"

They cheered and formed a link as Mary took James's hand and then Alexander's hand. As the youngest in the family, Alexander was the smallest even though he was months younger than the twins. Mary had to help the child a little bit.

"Mama?" James called her.

"Yes, sweetheart?" She asked as they walked.

"Why is the sun hot?"

Mary looked over her shoulder and gave her husband an exasperated look. "I do not know, my darling."

"You must know," Joseph said, giving her a pout. "Why are the trees green?"

"Oh, Jesus Christ," Mary muttered but she was saved by her nephew coming over to them with Willow calmly in his arms.

"The trees are green because they contain something that is like a special drink inside them. It helps them eat, grow and stay healthy," he said, to put things simply. "I learnt about it during my lessons."

"But why do they need to eat, grow and stay healthy?" His younger brother asked.

Mary chuckled when her nephew pulled a face. "Let's leave Robin to go ahead of us," she said.

Robin sent her a grateful look, running to catch up with the girls and Francis with Anastasia on his hip. Mary chuckled, shaking her head as she looked down at Peter.

"You're awfully quiet, my sweet."

"I don't like the water," Peter whined. "Can I stay out of it?"

Mary sighed. "It's either stay in the shade and try and beat the heat or get inside the cool water."

"I want the shade," Peter told her firmly.

"Shade it is," Mary said. "I'll stay with you."

Francis turned back to look at her. "No, you go inside. I will stay out."

She gave him a thankful smile. "Papa will be with you," she told Peter.

"Alright, Mama," Peter said happily as they finally reached the lake.

They stayed at the shallow end, watching the girls and Robin dance with the dogs splashing all around them. Mary waded in slowly, bringing James, Joseph and Alexander into the water, their hands linked.

"Stay close to me, don't let go!" She said.

As time went on, she told the boys to sit down in the shallow end and they got to making mud cakes, putting rocks and pebbles in their messy creations. Mary took the chance to fully submerge her body into the water, sighing in absolute relief with her eyes closed.

The heat was unbearable, even the servants had taken to wearing lighter shades of clothing back at the house. If not for the children and the two governesses being off sick or on holiday, Mary was sure that she and Francis would be fully undressed on top of the sheets to cool down.

"I'm sweating like a pig," Francis called out to her, lifting Peter onto his hip and going over to the girls and Robin. "Keep Peter with you if you are not going inside."

"We're not," Anne replied, taking her little brother into her arms. "Come on, Peter! Let's dance!"

Francis smiled, pressing a quick kiss on Anne's forehead before joining his wife in the water, wrapping his arms around her waist. She leant back into his chest and smiled softly.

"Better?" He asked her.

"Way better," she mumbled tiredly. "The heat's doing a lot to me and this pregnancy... I don't know what to do."

"Don't worry," her husband said. "I'll take good care of you."

"You always do."

...

Later that evening, Anne snuck into her parents' bedchamber and found her mother awake, reading a book. She sat at the end of the bed and huffed loudly to gain the woman's attention.

"To whom do I owe the pleasure of having you join me, Anne?" Mary asked, amused.

Anne blushed. "I need to talk to you."

"Where's Papa?"

"Play fighting with the boys," she said. "Robin and Rose are helping the cooks make tarts for Auntie Kenna and Uncle Bash's return tomorrow evening."

Mary turned to her. "Since when?"

"Since the page told Robin as the man of the house," Anne replied cheekily. "Papa knows."

"Well, we must prepare for their arrival-"

"Before we do," Anne began, stopping her mother. "I need to tell you something."

Mary nodded. "Go ahead."

Anne blushed furiously, staring at her hands. "I'm... my... I-I-"

"Spit it out, sweetheart."

"I've started my monthly!" Anne quickly said, clasping her hands over her mouth in shock.

Mary gasped, her eyes watering. "Really?"

"Yes," Anne mumbled, removing her hands. "It's horrible and my tummy aches a lot and-"

She let out a squeal when Mary hugged her tightly, laughing through her tears.

"My daughter's all grown up!"

"I don't want to be!" Anne whined. "Monthlies are so horrible! All my friends have started theirs and complain and the rumours are true-"

"It means we can bear children," Mary cut her daughter off. "Wouldn't you want a baby one day?"

Anne scowled. "I would but why do I have to start my monthly if I'm not ready for a baby yet?"

Mary chuckled. "The woman's body is a mystery to me at times too," she replied easily. "We should celebrate. You, Rose and me. Oh, and Auntie Kenna when she returns. I doubt Ana would understand just yet."

"Is it really something to be happy about?" Anne asked quietly.

Mary nodded eagerly. "Definitely. You are blossoming into a beautiful, young woman. We're all proud of you. In fact, we should go to Sweden for a girls' trip away. Bring your aunts along and your girl cousins... Make it a big affair without pesky men to disturb us."

Anne giggled. "I'd like that, Mama. Thank you," she said. "Do I have to tell Papa?"

Mary shrugged. "If you want to but it's not something to be ashamed of," she said gently. "He will probably cry and bemoan the fact that you're getting older but he will still see you as his little Annie. His little girl. He's proud of you."

Anne's eyes watered and she beamed. "Thank you, Mama."

"You're welcome," Mary told her, wiping her tears away before cupping her daughter's cheeks. "I remember the day you were born like it was yesterday. God, you're so beautiful."

"Stop," Anne said, blushing furiously. "I love you, Mama."

"I love you too, Annie."

...

At past midnight, Mary felt a sharp pain and she gasped loudly. Her movements and noise woke her husband up and he turned to her in alarm and concern. She gripped onto his shoulder and moaned.

"Mary, what is it?"

Mary's eyes stung with tears. "God's plan," she whispered sadly, pulling back the sheets to see her side of the bed bloody.

Francis sighed, sitting up fully to bring her frame to his. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine," Mary mumbled, pressing her face into his chest.

"Just... hold on to me as tight as you need to," Francis whispered, tears springing to his eyes. "Cry, scream, do what you want."

"We've been blessed with five children already," Mary began, her voice shaking. "I mean, our eldest has started her monthly, Francis."

Francis smiled sadly. "She has?"

She nodded against his chest. "She was so worried and upset about it but I calmed her down. I promised to celebrate with her."

"That's nice," he said. "Perhaps I'll see what I can get her for becoming a woman."

"We haven't lost a baby since our first..." Mary took a sharp breath, gripping onto Francis tightly. "I'm sorry."

"No, never apologise," Francis whispered, pressing a long kiss on the top of her head. "When you're ready, we can call for the nurse to check you over."

Mary sobbed and she squeezed her eyes shut, gripping onto his hand tightly. "John's christening. That was our first miscarriage," she continued. "I didn't want to ruin his day..."

"Don't think about that and you didn't," Francis told her gently.

"I did," she mumbled. "Because after, we weren't the same."

Francis nodded. "But that doesn't matter because here we are."

"Here we are," she whispered. "Anne, Rose, James, Joseph and Peter. They're so lovely, so pure and so happy... We did that."

"We did."

"And six might have been too much," she muttered, shaking her head with a sigh. "We're not your mother and father."

Francis smiled wryly. "We're not, no."

"Do you think that Claude will ever find someone else and give us another nephew or a niece?"

"I don't know," Francis replied. "She is happy in Scotland though and she said that a few nobles caught her eye but aren't too willing to take on Narcisse's son."

"Oh," Mary mumbled. "I didn't know. Perhaps she could visit. It has been five years since we saw her when we had everyone at Christmas."

Francis squeezed her forearm. "Life gets busy, my love."

"It really does," Mary said sadly. "We don't see Kenna and Bash that often. Claude is in Scotland. Greer and Aloysius moved to Norway. Lola barely even comes here from Italy... And John... We should tell the girls now about John's situation."

Francis looked down at her. "Are you sure?"

"I am. It's the right thing to do. They haven't seen him in four years," she said. "Everyone's busy."

Francis bit back a sob. "They are. But don't worry because everyone loves you and we'll get through this."

"Together?"

"Together," he promised, kissing her lips softly before getting out of their bed to fetch the nurse.

The second the door closed behind him, he sunk onto the floor and cried, covering his face.


	51. A Talk With The Queen

**Frary deal with the complications from the last chapter.**

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**Guest (1) [chapter 48]: Yay, haha. Thank you and Happy New Year to you too!**

**elder441 [chapter 49]: I'm glad it does!**

**Guest (2) [chapter 49]: You're welcome! Yes, Francis and Mary were strained but now they're all good.**

**Guest (3) [chapter 49]: It really was, haha :)**

**Sav.129 [chapter 50]: Thank you! :)**

**Guest (4) [chapter 50]: I'm so glad you were happy! After fifty chapters, things do get difficult to conjure up but all of you gave me valuable advice to make it keep going! Glad you loved the time skip, it was needed. I needed some Frary time with kids, even their niece and nephews! Anne was cute and she is now grown-up since she will be a teenager soon. I know it was something harsh to do for the fiftieth chapter, with them having a miscarriage but it also shows them being good parents to the children they do have running about. It isn't to say that it won't happen further down the line as they are in their early thirties now around 30-31 years old. Francis as the French patriarch and king feels like showing his wife his true feelings is a weakness. They will deal with that in this chapter and other. The children are cute, now at that annoying 'why' stage which their older siblings thankfully skipped or got over quickly, haha. You're very welcome and enjoy this chapter. **

****Guest (5) [chapter 50]: I know right? Haha! Thank you so much and you're very welcome too! Thanks for supporting my other stories as well. Things will get better. It starts in this chapter.****

**elder 441 [chapter 50]: Yeah, as every time they've got pregnant since then, it resulted in healthy babies. So going through this miscarriage, it is her second miscarriage and it links back to the first one which almost destroyed the marriage because they found out and lost it during John's christening celebrations. John will return and it will have an effect on Mary and her decisions regarding her stepson. And yes, Francis did have that reason to breakdown because he doesn't want to hurt Mary but at the same time, he regrets a lot. Even when Anne asked about John as a little girl. For now, I believe the Terrible Three (Anne, Rose and Robin) will be old enough to know about John's situation. John is a year older than Anne and Robin at 13, so now they are not children but teenagers or almost there, they will sense some conflict and relationships between siblings and cousins will be strained.**

**Guest (6) [chapter 50]: Enjoy this next chapter! And same here ;(**

* * *

"You should be resting," Francis told his wife, helping her get down from the wooden stool from which she stood on to put the bunting up. "Bash and Kenna won't mind."

Mary sighed. "It was a good thing we kept the news to ourselves, wasn't it?" Mary replied, hugging him tightly. "But I'm fine, Francis. We have to move on."

"You're not fine," Francis said gently. "I'm not-it doesn't matter. Anyway, I'm going to the chapel and was going to ask the children to join me."

Mary pulled back to look him in the eyes. "I will come along. Governess Susanne has returned from her holiday so will help us along with the older children."

"No, Mary," Francis told her, shaking his head. "Just stay at the house."

"I'm not an invalid!" Mary cried out, tears springing to her eyes. "It was barely even a baby."

Francis rubbed his face. "Don't say that. We loved that baby already."

"We did," she said. "And now you're restricting me from praying to God about it?"

Francis felt stung and he realised that was what he was doing. "I'm sorry, I didn't think. You were in so much pain last night, I do not want to risk anything regarding your health. I need you, our daughters and sons need you."

"Let me come with you all."

"Alright. But if you are in any discomfort-"

"I will tell you," Mary promised him.

He sighed, brushing a thumb over her lips. "I'm sorry, Mary. I just... I'm concerned about you."

"And I love you for that, but I am not glass, Francis," Mary said. "It is not the first time we have gone through this. This is normal and... We shouldn't be ungrateful for the things we have already."

"No, of course."

"Good," she said. "Now that we are in agreement, I should probably get dressed in more suitable clothing for our visit."

Francis stepped back and let her leave the room. The minute she was gone, he sighed heavily and shook his head.

...

"I have to be strong for her," Francis muttered to his brother as they filled their cups with more wine. "Lately, we've had so much happiness, something was bound to bring us back down to Earth. I mean, look at Anne. Anne has started her monthlies and she's all grown up... Remember when she was born?"

Bash smiled. "I do. I also remember a very demanding niece when it came to bedtime stories and the voices of those blasted characters. Even Robin has his eye on girls now. I seriously hope he doesn't take after us."

"You mean yourself," Francis replied, grinning. "If your son becomes a lothario, that is on you." His smile then disappeared. "We're getting old."

"Speak for yourself," Bash mumbled, taking a long sip from his cup. "Francis, these sort of things happen. No explanation, no regards to what we're feeling or going through. The only thing you can do is be there for Mary but also give her the space to breathe. You can't fuss over her, she will not appreciate that."

Francis nodded. "I don't want to treat her like glass. She's strong. Last night she was just holding a normal conversation as it happened. Different to the first time. But... It hit me harder this time."

"Oh."

"Yes," Francis whispered. "Is that strange? We have five children and they are all giving us grief but happiness regardless. I honestly saw us with six children, I was already having dreams about the baby in our arms... It was another girl and the older kids were so happy when they met her... I'm being stupid."

"You're not," Bash said gently. "You need to speak to Mary about this."

"No," Francis said. "I want to only focus on the good things with her. I don't want her worrying about my feelings. I have to be strong. I rule three countries for God's sake, I can't cry over the loss of something that was barely a thing."

Bash shook his head, a wry smile on his face. "Even the strongest need shoulders to cry on," he told his brother. "And that loss was _something_. It happens to a lot of people, children are a blessing and the more we're blessed with, we're grateful. And the more we lose..., we're heartbroken. Do not dismiss your feelings just to favour Mary's only. Be there for each other."

"You sound like you speak from experience," Francis said lightly. Obviously, Bash did have experience.

"Well, I would change a lot of things in my marriage," Bash admitted. "Miscarriages are never easy. But talking them through and being honest with each other will certainly make things easier. Trust me. Once you start talking, everything becomes clearer and less painful."

"You're right," Francis finally agreed. "I will tell her."

Bash smiled. "Good. Right, we should turn in for the night and-"

"When did it happen?"

Bash finished his drink and sighed heavily. "Last Christmas - stillbirth. She was six months gone."

"I'm so sorry," Francis said, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder. "We didn't know."

"We didn't tell anyone. We wanted to keep the news to ourselves and it became too late. We knew something was wrong, but we didn't want to believe it. That's why we opted for a quiet Christmas with Robin, Ana and Xander," Bash replied. "It gets easier, Francis. We both know that otherwise we wouldn't have other children nor your mother wouldn't have coped losing the twins because of that governess's stupid mistake."

"You're right," Francis said again with a yawn this time. "Goodnight, Bash."

Bash watched him stand and gave him a smile. "Goodnight, Francis. Sleep well."

"I'll try but I make no promises," Francis replied, patting Bash's shoulder before leaving.

...

Mary pulled her nightdress over her head and brushed her hair back. She sighed, sitting at her vanity table and pressed her hands over her face to will herself from crying.

She jumped when she heard the door open and she turned, giving Francis a bright smile. "Hello."

"Hello, Mary," Francis replied, a smile on his face. "You look so beautiful."

Mary beckoned him over. "Can you plait my hair for me, please?"

"Of course," he said as she turned to face the mirror.

His hands began to work and she closed her eyes when he started to massage her scalp. She felt relaxed, at peace and her visit to the chapel had really been a huge help.

"That feels good," she mumbled sleepily.

Francis smirked. "Does it?"

"It does. Thank you for looking after me, Francis."

"Of course, Mary," he said. "I'll be honest... I took this hard and I kept it from you."

Mary opened her eyes. "Francis, whatever is on your mind you should always tell me."

"I mourned what we lost without you."

"That is fine but please, just talk to me," Mary told him, eyeing him through the mirror. "I am here for you just as much as you are there for me. No matter what, we are still blessed and healthy and we can always try again. It just wasn't the time for a baby and I feel that we should focus more on the ones we do have."

Francis nodded. "What would we do when they're in school? God, I can't believe they are all in school now..."

Mary grinned. "Spend some quality time with each other but for now, we should stick to cuddling. I'm too sore."

"That is fine," Francis replied, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and planting a kiss on her cheek. "I am just grateful to have you."

"Same here," she whispered, reaching back to grab onto his forearm. "I love you."

"I love you too, Mary. Forever and always."


	52. An Exasperated Queen

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* * *

Mary gasped when she saw John. He was tall, definitely bigger than the nine-year-old she last saw him as. His curls were now hazel, like Anne's, and his eyes were blue and sharp like Anne's as well. If no one knew who they were, they would have said that John and Anne were twins. But that wasn't the case, same father but different mothers. Way different mothers.

She had requested to see him alone the minute he arrived without his mother. Apparently, Lola had found someone in Italy and was in the process of arranging her wedding so John had come to get away from that conveniently. He wasn't fond of his future stepfather but his mother was happy and that made him content.

Mary stood up from her seat and John bowed low, holding his position until she said, "Don't be stupid. Come and greet me properly."

John straightened his back and eyed her fearfully. "Ma'am?"

"I'm... I'm your stepmother, the mother to your half-siblings and most of all, your godmother," Mary told him gently. "So come and give me a hug."

John slowly walked up to her and she wrapped her arms around him the second he stepped into them. The hug was tense and she could very well feel that and when she pulled away and cupped his cheeks, he faltered.

"Your Majesty?"

"You're so tall. You'll be as tall as your father soon," she said, smiling. She let go of him. "How is your mother?"

"She's happy."

Mary nodded. "That is good. Do you know why you are here?"

"To spend time at Court? I know that Father won't be with me all that much, but I should be able to spend time with people more my age," he replied.

"That is right," Mary said. "But that is also the thing - about your father that is. We have decided to explain to the girls and Robin about your situation. We want you to be a part of our family."

John froze. "Pardon me?"

"I can't deny your existence, John," she told him. "I do care for you, you're not only my husband's child but one of my dear friend's son. I know that she doesn't pay much attention to you these days... Life goes on and she does need to secure her own future but that isn't to say that Francis will continue to neglect you and your own needs."

"I do not need the King's attention," John said. "He has your children to think about. My mother explained this all from an early age-"

"I was selfish," Mary admitted quickly. "Francis's loyalty to me has made your childhood suffer. That ends today. Hopefully, your relationships with your half-sisters and half-brothers will be improved. What do you say?"

John swallowed deeply. "Whatever you say goes, Your Majesty."

"Do drop that nonsense," she muttered lightly. "It's _Aunt Mary_ to you."

"Alright, Aunt Mary," John corrected himself with a smile.

"Welcome home, John."

...

"Anne, it is no problem-"

"Do you know what this means, Rose?" Anne cut her sister off as they got off their horses and let the stable boys take them in.

Rose sighed. "What, Anne?"

"Father won't pay _us_ enough attention. He barely does with James, Joseph and Peter running about," Anne said. "As daughters, we are not important in the hierarchy of things."

Rose rolled her eyes. "You're too jealous. Green is such an ugly colour."

"You're supposed to me on my side!"

"Annie, I will always be on your side but don't you remember being James's age when you and Father always had those little moments and I was disregarded?" Rose retorted, taking off her gloves. "Just-"

Her blue eyes caught someone and she blushed when he waved at her before being scolded by his mother, their head cook. He walked on, giving her a meek smile and a boyish grin before he continued to herd the chickens into the small chicken compound.

"Rose!"

"What?" Rose quickly said, turning back to her sister.

"You had that stupid look in your eyes again," Anne muttered darkly. "We do not mix with the side help, Rose."

Rose scowled. "Must you look down on people?"

"Mother and Father probably have some rich prince for you to marry one day," Anne replied as they headed towards the entrance of the castle. "Sons of cooks won't give you wealth or lands. Our brothers overrule us and we're older than them. Think about it, you'll probably be married to the Queen of Navarre's second son."

"He's younger than us. Both of them are!"

Anne shrugged. "Or the King of Sweden. He's fifteen in the autumn and I saw him eyeing me during your birthday events."

"Next, you'll tell me that you want all of his adorable babies," Rose said with a mocking tone. "He's the one, is he?"

Anne glared at her sister. "At least _he's_ somebody."

"Sisters."

They both looked up to see John bowing in front of them. He had a warm smile on his face and he reached out towards Rose, her hand going into his as he kissed the back of it. He then moved onto Anne who discreetly wiped the kiss off with her riding pants when his gaze landed on Rose.

"John Philip! You're back," Rose said happily. "It's been long."

"It has," John replied kindly. "I missed you both. We used to play with footballs and dollhouses, remember?"

"Vaguely," Anne said, disinterested.

They heard footsteps behind John and Robin appeared with a smirk on his face and Willow scattering about his feet as he walked towards them. He stopped beside John and nodded his greeting. They were cousins, formalities long since gone.

"Rosie, Annie."

"Robin," the girls said, grinning.

"But I thought your father wouldn't let you come?"

Robin winked at them. "The trick when it comes to my dear father," he said, brushing over a scar on his cheek briefly. "Is to use my beloved mother. She has ways, that I obviously would rather not know but they work. I'll be Uncle Francis's ward."

Rose beamed. "That's amazing!" She said, hugging him tightly. "Oh, the fun we would have! Summer at Avon just wasn't enough. Is Ana alright? Xander too?"

"Slow down, Rose!" Robin chuckled. "Ana and Xander are alright. Keep asking of the boys but my parents promise to visit by Christmas with them."

"I wish Uncle Bash was still Father's King's Deputy," Anne said with a sigh. "Remember when we put Barty the Mouse in Grandmama's pillow?"

Robin chuckled. "How could I forget? The castle was home. At times. Anyway, who is this stranger?"

John looked taken back and he held his hand out to shake Robin's. "Forgotten me that easily, Cousin?"

"John Philip? By God, it is you!" Robin cried out, bringing the boy in for a hug. "Does this mean that I don't have to do what the girls want now?"

"John is not staying for long," Anne said firmly. "Not if I have a say..." She mumbled to herself.

Robin frowned. "Oh, no! B-But-"

"No 'but's, Robert," Anne told him, turning to John. "If you'd excuse us, my sister and cousin need to follow me. Now."

Anne grabbed their arms and Robin turned to give John a meek shrug and an exasperated look to Anne.

"Why were you so rude?" He asked her.

Anne rolled her eyes. "He doesn't belong here."

"She's just jealous," Rose said as Anne spoke. She then continued with, "I am sure it is nothing against John Philip but the fact that Father would probably spend more time with John than he does spend with us girls. She'll end up a bitter spinster at this rate if she pushes away her family."

Anne scowled, stopping at her bedchamber to cross her arms angrily. "How dare you?!"

"Oh, right. She'll end up the bitter wife of some Swedish King. There, I corrected myself," Rose said, smiling at her sister.

Robin laughed. "Well, you both do what you wish. John and I are finally reunited to be boys! I can't always have my lovely hair plaited by you. I need to do my own thing. That and your father will have me working at his ward so I want my free time to be spent appropriately."

"Then you can leave too!" Anne cried out. "In fact, join them, Rose! I will find better friends!"

Rose grinned. "But can you find another sister or... cousin?"

"I can ask Mama and Papa to always have another baby," Anne said defiantly. "As for cousins... I thank Auntie Kenna for giving us, Anastasia. I bet she will be easier to train than you were."

Robin gaped. "My little sister is _not_ your plaything and that is hurtful to say!"

Rose shrugged. "She's said worse," she replied casually. "At this point, I'm keeping score to exact my revenge." She turned to Anne. "Sleep with one eye open."

Anne gasped as her sister and cousin left, laughing.

...

Mary jumped when she felt arms wrap around her waist and she turned in them to kiss Francis on the lips. "Don't do that," she scorned him. "Much less when we're in company."

"What company?" Francis said, kissing her neck.

She shifted away to see that the throne room was empty. Had she really been staring out the window for ages?

"Oh," she mumbled. "Sorry."

"What's wrong?" He asked, bringing her back into his arms. "Are you still in pain?"

Mary shook her head. "I was just watching Rose, John and Robert outside. I'm sorry I lost the baby."

"What? Mary, we spoke about-"

"We could have had another child running about with the others, but I lost it."

Francis hugged her tightly. "No, Mary! Don't blame yourself."

She began to sob. "I know I said that I was fine with it, but looking at the older children made me realise that I do want more children one day. We have five beautiful children, but that needs to be more. Expanded on... Our eldest is growing up and I believe Rose has a little crush-"

"Rose has a 'what'?"

"So, it will be great to have more kids and share the love and-"

"Rose has a crush?!"

"Francis!" Mary cried out, giving him a look of frustration.

Francis looked out the window to glare at his child. "Who is he? I'll find him-"

"Francis Valois!"

He jumped and turned to his wife. "Sorry. You were saying?"

"Forget it-"

"No, no, no," he quickly said, going over to pull her into his arms. "I agree with everything you said. Children and a lot of them, it's a 'yes' from me, my love. And you should _never_ blame yourself for losing our child. It happens, it's normal and if you need someone other than me to talk to about that, ask Kenna. I may be your husband but I am not woman enough to feel the effects you did. I love you."

"I love you too," Mary replied with a smile.

Francis grinned. "Now, tell me who the boy that has my daughter infatuated in is."

Mary rolled her eyes. "You're unbelievable!" She said, leaving his arms.

"Mary!"

"I'm not saying anything!" She sang, walking out of the room.

"Ah, Ma-she's gone."


	53. A Rose For The Queen

**I aim to write chapters based on some of the kids ;) Hope you enjoy this one down below.**

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**Sav.129 [chapter 52]: Thanks, hope you enjoy the next!**

**Guest (1) [chapter 52]: Sadly yes.**

**Guest (2) [chapter 52]: That's to come in future chapters :)**

****Guest (3) [chapter 52]: You're welcome and hope you enjoy the next chapters revolving him and his siblings!****

* * *

Anne finished brushing her hair and turned on her seat to look at Rose. "John Philip is a bad omen," she said. "I mean, he was born in the _plague_!"

"You do realise that this is the same John Philip we've played with when we were children?" Rose asked her sister, rolling her eyes. "I can't believe we're still on this. You can't say that about people."

"What dress should I wear?" Anne asked, disregarding her sister's words. "The King of Sweden is coming with his Court and Mother said we should put on our best dresses. Don't try and outshine me, I will be wearing gold silk."

Rose groaned. "Why are you in my bedchamber again?"

"My brush broke. I will get Father to get me a new one," Anne said. "Oh, and the necklace you got from the Czar of Russia is not so bad either."

Rose clicked her tongue and got up from her bed. "If you need me, I'll be walking Olly the Dog."

Anne ran her hands through her hair. "Have fun! Don't get too dirty."

Rose rolled her eyes and left her bedchamber, retrieving Olly from his chamber. She thought it was quite silly, conveniently not remembering that she and Anne begged their parents to let their pet dog have a whole chamber for himself even though their kennels did the job just as well. Their dog was getting older anyway so no one minded and his chamber wasn't guarded.

She headed downstairs and gave the guards bright smiles as they bowed as she walked. She found the cook hurrying by with her son slacking behind and she giggled when he pulled a face of disdain her way.

Elliot was thirteen and he dropped a piece of paper on the ground as their shoulders touched and they walked the opposite ways. He continued on and she bent down to pick the paper up just before Olly got his jaws on it.

She walked on and opened it, blushing furiously when it said to meet him behind the stables in fifteen minutes. As an employee of the castle, their staff had learnt how to read and write as a new target to flourish the education rates in France. It helped them get their children on better paths to increase their income. It was very smart and Rose had been the idea behind it after visiting the orphanage frequently with her parents.

Heading into the throne room, she burnt the piece of paper away, brushed her sweaty hands against her skirts and left, grinning with Olly bouncing about around her feet.

...

Rose's ears went bright pink when her lips met Elliot's and she quickly backed away, letting out a giggle.

"Are... Are you alright, Princess?" He asked, confused.

Rose grinned. "I... I am," she replied. "T-That was my first kiss."

"It was mine too," Elliot replied nervously. "W-Was it good?"

She nodded enthusiastically. "It was. Really good."

"But you backed away."

"Don't mind me," Rose replied. "I just don't want us to get in trouble. You _are_ supposed to be helping the staff prepare for the King of Sweden's dinner service."

Elliot gasped. "Oh, yes! I-I have to go but will you..."

"Will I...?"

"Meet me tomorrow, same time?"

Rose nodded. "Yes, I will."

He stepped back and bowed lowly before kissing her hand and making her giggle. He then left, leaving Rose to untie Olly from the tree nearby and walk them back to the entrance of the castle.

In her own little world and the biggest grin on her face, Rose didn't realise when she bumped into someone, almost falling back until he quickly steadied her and cupped her cheeks.

"Papa!" She cried out in shock. "Uh, I took Olly out for a walk."

"Where have you been for the past fifteen minutes, Rose?" Francis asked her suspiciously.

Rose narrowed her eyes back. "I just said, Father. I took Olly out for a walk."

"Riiiiight," her father drawled out. "Your sister is looking for you."

Rose sighed heavily, making her father's face shift.

"What did she say now?"

"Nothing," she quickly said. "I think she wants to be the star of the show. She wants the King of Sweden's attention."

Francis gasped. "But she... she _likes_ Oskar?"

"She does," Rose said with a smirk. "I will tell you everything about it if..."

"If?"

"You stop spying on me, Father," Rose said, crossing her arms.

Francis gasped. "I do no such thing!"

"Windows, behind walls, reading my diary and trying to place it intricately back in its place," Rose listed. "Father, I am more observant than you believe."

"Fine," Francis muttered. "Now, Anne."

Rose grinned. "She intends to marry him and here is _how_..."

...

Mary tutted and groaned when her husband kept going on and on about their daughters' love lives. Weren't they as active and romantical as them when they were their age?

"I swear to God, that if you keep going on about our daughters, you and I will not have any bedchamber time for weeks to come," Mary warned him.

Francis sighed and sipped his drink, staring at Rose and Anne converse with the King of Sweden before he asked his eldest for a dance. They were the stars of the whole room, gliding effortlessly around the floor.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Oskar's mother, the Dowager Queen of Sweden asked.

Francis swallowed deeply. "It is."

"Your daughter is beautiful," she said. "You and the Queen must be so proud of her."

Mary beamed. "We are."

"We are," Francis said as well, sharing a warm smile with his wife. "She's our little queen."

"Perhaps, she'll be a bigger queen," the Dowager Queen replied. "You know why we've been entertaining your Court for the past two years."

Francis nodded. "Marriage."

"They are smitten," she continued. "Surely that means something."

"It does," Mary said.

"One minute you're trying to auction her off to Scottish nobles and now... She could well be the Queen of Sweden in just a few weeks time."

Mary and Francis shared a glance.

"We do not want our daughters to marry so young. Perhaps, in two years when she's fifteen?" Francis replied.

"I see," the other queen mumbled. "Should we announce a long engagement then? Just as yours and your wife's own was?"

Mary shared a nod with Francis before saying, "Yes."

They returned their gazes back to the dancefloor where Anne was looking into Oskar's eyes lovingly. He didn't seem as taken but he was still respectful and kind. It made them slightly weird about the situation and Francis left the women's side in search of more wine.

As he headed over to the drinks table, he found his eldest son all alone in the corner of the room. Searching the hall for Robin and Rose, he returned his attention back to John when he couldn't find them.

"Father-"

"Why don't you ask a girl for a dance?" Francis suggested. "Otherwise the subjects will start calling you _broody_ as they do your uncle."

John smirked. "Is he... Is Uncle Bash going to come to Court?"

"Not soon, he's busy. Why?"

John shook his head. "Nevermind." He then shifted on his feet nervously. "Was my mother your mistress?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Someone said that Grandfather, _your_ father, had many mistresses but the one he kept going back to was Uncle Bash's mother. And my mother is Aunt Mary's best friend, well _former_ best friend and you had me with her... I-I don't know what I'm saying," John mumbled, making a move to leave but Francis stopped him.

"Tomorrow."

"What?"

"I'll explain everything tomorrow with Anne and Rose," Francis promised him. "I'm sorry people are talking about you behind your back and now I understand why you asked for my brother. Should I send for him?"

John blushed. "No, I do not want to inconvenience anyone-"

"You won't be." Francis sighed. "Your uncle is a tough man. He did as he pleased, still does the lucky bastard..." He smiled lightly. "But one thing he kept saying over the years whenever I tried berating our father for how he treated him was '_all bastards know how to survive by themselves_'. I don't want that to be the case with you because I do want to be a part of your life, I did from the minute you were born. I did hurt the people I love making the decision to claim you but I never realised that the one suffering the most out of it all was _you_."

John faltered and he shrugged, bowing his head. "Robin and Rose are nice but..."

"Anne isn't?" Francis asked knowingly. "My eldest daughter is vain and she's her own _woman_, I guess. But you needn't worry because her dislike for you stems from her fears of abandonment. Which is impossible because I did favour her and Rose seemed to flourish when I wasn't overbearing on her. But I see why Anne may feel threatened. Lately, my focus has switched to my sons." He sighed. "The younger boys, James, Joseph and Peter. She feels neglected but that is no reason to take it out on you. She will come around."

"I-I have to go," John said, quickly leaving as Francis caught the back of his daughter's dress just in time to see Rose leave.

Curiously, the King followed after Rose. He figured that John needed space for now and when he rounded the corner he saw his precious daughter, her lips locked with the boy who belonged to the cook.

"Francis, I thought you were going to get us drinks-"

Both froze when Rose screamed, and she and the boy turned to them in horror, shame and embarrassment.

After a while, Mary started to laugh.

"Hello, Elliot," she said kindly. "Can you excuse us for a minute?"

Elliot quickly bowed to them before leaving the trio to their peace.

"Mother, Father, it's not what it-"

"Your Uncle Leith used to be a kitchen boy," Mary said, nudging her husband's shoulder. "Then he rose through the ranks and became General of the French military service two years ago. Before that, he saved your father's life when they fought to reclaim Calais. Then he helped your Uncle Bash with his King's Deputy roles as he tried to remain in your Auntie Kenna's good books. You never know, Elliot might just hold some lands of his own one day. Right, Francis?"

Francis playfully glared at his wife before nodding. "I will allow you to keep seeing this boy _under observation_. I remember being his age! Sex was the only thing on my mind."

"Francis!"

"Father!"

"She isn't ready for that," Mary said, giggling. "But I do agree. Boys are sexually active and girls, well we can hold our own. Sex is power, it's a weapon but you are too young for that and if Elliot is the one or who you like for now, he will have to respect that."

Rose nodded happily. "Alright. Thank you!"

"Just be happy, Rosie," her father said, kissing her forehead. "And go and check on John for me, please? He needs a friend right now."

"Okay, Papa!" Rose said, heading off.

Mary turned to him in surprise and smiled softly. "We should get back inside to make sure that our other daughter isn't too spirited on the dancefloor."

Francis chuckled, offering his arm to her and she took it. "I am so not ready to deal with all this love drama."

"Neither am I. I had three more years until I had all this grief about me," she said lightly. "We should definitely steer them well away from brothers, full, half or otherwise."

Francis bowed his head, hiding a smile. "Definitely. Otherwise, they'd definitely be their mother's daughters, creating havoc over love. To this day, you're still my one and only."

"And that goes the same to you too," Mary replied, grinning.


	54. A Sweet Anne For The Queen

**I am really happy with this chapter. You'll know why down below ;)**

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**Sav.129 [chapter 53]: Indeed! Hope you enjoy the next chapter!**

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****Guest (2) [chapter 53]: She really is! That's down below and you won't see the last of 'adult' Anne!****

* * *

"He likes me," Anne announced, bursting through Rose's doors the next morning. "King Oskar likes _me_. My plan worked."

"You do know that Mother and Father won't let you marry until you're at least, fifteen-"

"You do know how annoying you get when you say 'you do know'?"

Rose groaned, placing her pillow over her face as she said muffled, "What do you _want_?!"

"Oskar has a brother," Anne replied, crossing her arms. "He'll threaten my little thing with Oskar because he has such a low attention span."

"So...?"

"I need you-"

"No."

"Rose!"

"Anne!"

"I beg you-"

"Get on your knees."

Anne gasped. "On this dirty floor? I beg you not!"

Rose shook her head, but she wasn't surprised. "Get out, get out, get-"

"Oh, you're both up," Francis said, entering the bedchamber. "How are my little angels this morning?"

Anne grinned. "Very well, Papa," she replied sweetly. "I was just retrieving Rose for breakfast. Our horseriding lessons start soon."

"Actually," Francis began. "I cancelled them."

"What?" The girls both said. "Why?"

"Family meeting in thirty minutes. Come to my offices," he told them before leaving.

Anne sighed, turning back to Rose. "So will you?"

"Will I...?"

"Entertain the Prince of Gothenburg."

"Anne?"

"Yes?"

"He's _four_."

"So?"

"Get. Out. Now."

Anne scowled. "You never do anything for me!"

Rose gaped, shaking her head in disbelief. "If you don't go, I will kill you and Mother and Father won't bat their eyelids."

"You're so selfish," Anne mumbled, leaving.

Rose shook her head. "And you're so annoying."

...

Anne was the last one to arrive and she took a seat beside Rose, surprised to see John there as well. She glared at him when Francis turned to take a seat on his desk and quickly smiled when the king turned back around, his bottom now on the desk.

"Anne, Rose, you both know who this is," he said, gesturing to John.

"He's our half-brother, of course, Papa," Rose said, turning to John. "Hello, John."

"Hello, Rose," John said quietly.

Francis smiled a little. "Yes. You both share me as your father. And John's mother is-"

"Aunt Lola," Anne finished for him. "She used to visit, but she stopped." _Good riddance. She always made Mama sad_, she thought bitterly. But aloud, "What about her?"

"You see," Francis began, pulling the collar of his shirt nervously. "Mama and I were not happy back then. We had found love so young, there were many things happening, we both were pulled in different directions, our hearts uncertain... In the midst of things, we separated and I went to Aunt Lola for comfort."

"Why?" Rose asked, slightly hurt. It was the past, there was no reason to be too upset about things.

Francis smiled wryly. "Because, Mama,... Mama was with someone else for comfort. We both were hurting so I did something I never should have done and hurt her terribly. I was angry, confused, upset... I never knew Lola was pregnant until the day she gave birth which was when the plague began. She tried keeping it from me, marrying another man who sadly perished in a fire. But I found out and despite everyone telling me not to claim the child, I did."

Anne frowned. "Why though? I overhear Mama speaking about it with Auntie Kenna at times, and she's still hurt."

Francis nodded. "I know, she is. But I didn't want history to repeat itself."

"In what way?"

"That brings me to your Uncle Bash," Francis continued. "He's like John. Our father claimed him, allowed him to keep residence here with his mother, Diane de-"

"Poitiers," John finished. "Grandfather's first mistress."

"Indeed. When my parents got married, they didn't have children for a long time but Father did with Diane and that was Bash. Father adored him at one point, Bash was his favourite because the things he could do with him, he couldn't with me. I was a sick child, I couldn't leave the castle but Bash could," Francis said softly. "They'd go camping and hunting and do archery... They'd go horseriding and drink and do whatever fathers did with their favourite son. But the one thing Father never did was give him a title and the only title that stuck for a long time was _bastard_. It was horrible growing up as the king's bastard son even if he got his attention more than his legitimate children. But that made it easy for my father to manipulate Bash. To let him have the taste of something great and snatch it away just as quickly."

Anne gasped. "Was he a bad man?"

"Not at first," Francis said. "But he was ill. We couldn't blame him for the actions he had no control over. The last straw was him marrying your Auntie Kenna to Bash. It was a forced marriage, but they fell in love and got the last laugh." He smiled at that. "Anyway, I hoped to not let that happen to John. He needed a father and I wanted to be that for him. To show people that not all bastards were terrible but they could _be_ something with the right support and care. It took my father's death until Bash's life became better and I want John's life to be better from the moment he stepped here but I know that is not the case." He turned to Anne.

Anne blushed. "I will admit, I am jealous," she grumbled out. "You'll spend more time with John than you will with me!"

"How do you know that for sure?"

"The past five years, you have shown the boys more attention than you do Rose and me. Mama is the only one who is interested in our sums, Languages and English lessons," Anne replied, crossing her arms. "You never come to check on us. Only on the boys and guess what? John is a boy!"

Francis sighed. "I see-"

"Do you really, Papa?" Anne asked. "If you did, then you would have done more about it five years ago! I mean, you haven't even congratulated me for becoming a woman!"

"A woman?" Francis repeated. "I do not see a woman here, but a petulant child."

Anne gasped, tears stinging to her eyes. "Humph!"

"Want to know something?" Francis asked the girls. "My siblings, who were also your uncle's half-siblings, adored him. From Lissie to Henri. So, it hurts me when my flesh and blood can't love my other flesh and blood who happens to be her _brother_ regardless."

Rose raised her hand. "We should host a party in John's honour," she said quietly, eyeing her half-brother. "I heard of his christening. You had presents coming in even after his first birthday. And you know what is even better? You should let Anne, Robin and I organise it."

John shook his head. "You don't have to-"

"That's a great idea, Rose," Francis said. "Sadly, your sister can't take a leaf out of your book. If you need help, do not hesitate to ask."

Rose nodded, smiling happily. "It's a shame Auntie Kenna isn't here. She throws the best parties!"

"Sometimes too good," Francis muttered lightly. "You and John go. Anne and I need to speak."

Rose quickly left, dragging a perplexed John behind her as Anne looked away from her father. She was still upset, crossing her arms and pouting like she was a child scored. But she was almost a teenager, thirteen next year and she had to _grow up_.

"One day," Francis said, coming to kneel in front of her. "You'll be a mother. Would you like it if your children were at odds?"

Anne shook her head 'no'.

"This King Oskar..." He trailed off. "He seems to be a definite marriage match for you but I do not think I could punish him like that. A stubborn, headstrong girl like you? He'll be crying to his mother every day."

Anne let out a little smirk and Francis grinned, brushing her hair behind her ear.

"Annie, I love you and I will always love you," he said softly. "But I love John too. He's my son and I owe it to him. I owe it to him to be the father he needs because he'll end up resenting me like Bash did our father. I can't have my blood hate me. It will break my heart and I will die an unhappy man. Do you want me to die unhappy?"

Anne shook her head again. "No, Papa."

"Then will you _try_ and make things up with John?"

"We will see."

"That is not the answer I want," Francis said firmly. "Or do you want me to call the you-know-who inside?"

Anne gasped. "Don't call Mama!"

"Don't make me fetch her-"

"Yes, I will make it up to John. In fact, we should get him a dog and a new horse!" She said quickly, eyes wide.

Francis chuckled, kissing the top of her head. "Thank you."

...

"Mary!"

"Did you talk to the girls?" The queen asked, stopping in her tracks.

Francis nodded. "I did but we'll still be wary of Anne."

"It's... progress," Mary replied, sighing.

"She suggested peace offerings - a dog and a new horse," Francis continued. "He had to leave his horse in Italy. It makes sense, the only thing that has from Anne regarding him."

Mary winced. "I've heard the rumours going around about John and... _Lola_. Then Robin and Rose were talking about Anne calling John a 'bad omen' We really need to coax her out of her indifference towards him. For God's sake, they played as children."

"If you think about it, Anne was only tolerant of him," Francis admitted. "She will change though, don't worry. It will get easier."

"Hopefully," Mary said. "I want John to feel as welcome as possible, as safe and comfortable."

"Did something happen in Italy? You and she do keep things from me when it comes to him," Francis said, trying not to be terse but it came out like that.

Mary flinched. "Just keep an eye on him."

"Mary..."

"Lola told me that her new husband-to-be wasn't too fond of John," she said quietly. "In the sense that he... he hurt him."

Francis set his jaw. "I'm sorry, _what_?!"

"Francis, this is Lola's only chance to secure her future and she has trusted us with her most prized possession, her son. _Your_ son," Mary said, cupping his cheek and shifting it so he could eye her properly. "She has had him for all of these years, John being here can improve your relationship and keep him safe from the harsh, cruel world. I would admit, at first, I didn't pay him any mind but no child deserves abuse. The women of Court get enough, should children suffer too?" Her eyes watered. "Let's make France a home for him again. Show him a _real_ family and not one kept away with a busy mother and stepfather who hates him."

Francis looked away from her, taking her hand off his cheek. "Do you know her fiancé's name by any chance?"

"Francis-"

"Tell. Me. His. Name."

Mary looked him in the eyes. "I. Don't. Know."

"Mary, this is my son we're talking about. My firstborn child," Francis told her. "If you don't tell me, I will have to ask someone else."

Mary sighed, bowing her head. "Then do so, Francis. Do that and I will source a line of dogs for John to choose from."

She walked away and passed Anne who had been listening to what they were saying the whole time. Her eyes watered as she watched her mother's back walk away from her. It was shocking, what she had just heard and she wanted nothing more than to comfort John.

But this was John who was her father's firstborn, she wasn't his firstborn. This was John the Bad Omen. John the Plague. John... _her brother_.

She wiped her tears away and went in search for John.

...

She found him in the woods, sword-fighting a tree. She giggled when he got the blade stuck and used his foot to press against the bottom of the bark to retrieving it back.

Successfully claiming it, he turned and jumped when he saw her.

"John," she said, smiling a little. "What are you doing here all alone?"

"What are _you_ doing here all alone?" He retorted.

"I have two guards," she told him. "Mama and Papa's rules. Ever since Rose and Robin were-"

"Taken," John finished. "I remember." He sheathed his sword. "What do you want, Anne?"

"Where did you get that? Father says we aren't allowed real blades until we're fourteen."

John smirked. "You use a sword?"

"Self-defence never hurt anybody. Papa thought it best following Robin and Rose's kidnapping," Anne replied easily, circling the tree before him. "Well? Tell me your secrets."

"Don't tell anyone."

"I have secrets from Robin that I keep to the grave," she replied. "Trade you one for your disclosure?"

John grinned. "I snuck it out of the guards' quarters. There's a time it goes unguarded when some sleep at the end of their shift. I have to remember to return it before they awake and the next ones come through to sleep."

Anne chuckled. "Maybe next time, you'll be packing two."

"Two?"

"One for me as well, stupid," she said, taking the sword and swinging it expertly. "Uncle Bash taught us behind Mama and Papa's backs. But we do have wooden sword practice at three in the afternoon every day under Papa's observation."

John nodded. "Very well," he said. "And your secret in return?"

"Robin... Robin may or may not be a virgin."

"What?!" John gasped, rushing to her side. "H-How, when? Did he enjoy it? Is it as the whispers around say?"

Anne shrugged. "I overheard the kitchen girl saying that her cousin who works at Avon's kitchens found him and the stableboy's half-sister _doing it_. That's why Uncle Bash sent him to Papa."

"Really?"

"God no!" Anne said, laughing loudly. "You're too gullible."

"That's mean, Anne," John snapped, crossing his arms.

Anne smirked a little. "Fine," she said. "Robin was caught kissing the Archduchess of Prussia whilst he was with the Duchess of Hamburg as they stopped at Avon."

"Is that really true?"

"Ask him!"

"I will," John stated. "Otherwise I'll be back for a _true_ truth."

Anne chuckled and placed the sword against the bark. "John... John are you happy here?"

"I don't have much to go on, but I am happy somewhat when I come here," he admitted.

She nervously avoided his eyes. "And are you happy in Italy?"

John froze. "Y-Yes."

"Don't lie to me, we're siblings."

"Anne-"

"Did your stepfather hurt you? Is what my Mama is saying true?"

John blushed but nodded. "Yes."

Anne gasped and threw her arms around him tightly. "I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apol-"

"I haven't made it easy either, being mean," Anne continued, her voice muffled by his clothes. "So I'm sorry."

John reciprocated the hug. "You're forgiven. You always will be, Annie."

Anne beamed, tightening the hug even more. "Thank you."

...

Kenna got up from her vanity and found Bash reading a letter with a sigh. It had the royal seal and Kenna knew what that meant. He'd be away for God knew when in the name of Francis and France.

"What does your beloved brother want now?" Kenna asked lightly.

"He wants us to go to Court sooner rather than later at Christmas," he told her, placing the letter on his desk. "John has made it to Court and he thinks that us spending time with each other will settle him quicker."

"Mary did say," Kenna mumbled. "Lola's getting married, John's pretty much permanently going to be at Court... What about the children? They enjoy attending their school."

Bash shrugged. "We'll have to tell their teachers that they need sick leave. We have good tutors at Court, they won't miss out on anything."

"But still-"

"Kenna, this is our nephew and if he needs me, I will be there for him. Because I, of all people, know what it's like," Bash cut her off gently. "To feel like the black sheep of the family. That everyone is talking behind your back or to your face about who made you and what that makes you. Being a bastard shouldn't define anyone, but it does."

Kenna walked up to him and placed her hands on his shoulders. "One day, that word will be abolished and no one would be able to use it without being killed for it."

He chuckled. "Seriously?"

She nodded. "Of course! It's degrading and horrible. No one should feel terrible for how they came into the world. It's not like you asked to be born, is it?"

"No, not it isn't," Bash agreed.

"You've convinced me," she finally said, discarding her clothes and looking for her nightdress. "We can check up on Robin and make sure his lips stay well away from girls. He gets that from you."

"Ahem?"

"I'll admit, I didn't lose my virginity until sixteen but who said a thirteen-year-old girl couldn't have fun?" Kenna winked at him. "And you started sleeping around at twelve."

"My father's fault," Bash replied, helping her lift her hair out of her dress after she slipped it on. "I thought we had a few more years."

Kenna shrugged, turning to him. "Please, _please_, teach him how to be safe. And how you, well _we_ prevented any little surprises before him."

Bash grinned. "Are you sure that I should?"

"It's either you or me and I'll scar him for life!"

"Fine. But you get Anastasia."

"Good luck because in six years, it will be Alexander's turn too," Kenna replied, grinning. "Have you kissed them 'goodnight'?"

"I have," he replied.

She nodded. "I will too. I'll be right back and then maybe we won't need to practice what we preach."

He burst into laughter as she left their room, retrieving the letter from the desk. He walked over to the fire and re-read the words again.

_'Lola's betrothed, I need his name and where to find him. I found out he has been hurting John - Francis.'_

Bash knew all well the torture one bastard could receive. He was prone to have his life threatened himself and Henry even sent men to kill him. All because of a crown or three (France, Scotland and England's) and love.

He crumpled up the paper in his hand and threw it to be eaten up by the flames. He watched them, even when his wife returned and wrapped her arms around his waist, her face buried in his back.

"Are you alright?" Kenna asked softly. "You're so tense."

Bash relaxed and planted a genuine smile on his face, turning in her arms. "What have I got to worry about?" He retorted, brushing her hair from her eyes. "When I have the most beautiful woman in my arms, the mother of my children and hopefully more when we're ready..."

Kenna clicked her tongue. "We'll see," she told him, kissing him. "What's on your mind?"

"Nothing," he said. "I'm just thinking about how far we've come. A king's bastard and his mistress... You and your friends have certainly grown up and found happiness. Greer with Castleroy, Mary with Francis, you and me and Lola with...?"

"Duke Vincenzo Morelli," Kenna said in excitement. "She says she'll see if she can send us an invite. They hope for a Spring wedding next year." She left his arms as she twirled around the bedchamber, picking up pillows on the way. "He owns ten, _ten_ vineyards! His wine is the best, Lola sent me some for my birthday. The one we shared on your birthday, remember? He has a few mines, but his vineyards are the most profitable. He's in favour with the Medicis. Makes me wonder if Catherine organised this match because Vincenzo is a little older..."

"Are you being judgmental?" Her husband asked lightly. "Considering you've slept with my father, General Renaude and-"

"Darling, if you want to take me, you'll need to shut up now," Kenna said, grinning. "But Vincenzo is _older_. Like sixty-two years old."

Bash pulled a face. "And Lola loves him?"

"Oh, they're perfect together," Kenna said. "She reminds him of his daughter who died. Brunette and plump in places but they're happy and we could kindly accept their invite and try and steal us a couple of wine bottles or twenty."

Something told Bash that this man wouldn't live to see his wedding day.

"Yes, we'll accept," he said, smiling. What his wife wanted, she got. Even if it wasn't guaranteed.

By the time she was fast asleep, Bash had written out his reply, informing Francis that he'll take a detour to 'Austria' as the rest of his family attended Court. He knew his brother would want to handle things but Francis had to be careful.

And Bash would do anything for family, including bastard nephews.


	55. A Robin For The Queen

**Yep, exam season has started, got evening exams, morning ones and I'm tired as hell. Had this chapter written up and then forgot about it and wondered why I was missing a chapter when I started chapter 56. I'm tired, haha!**

**Replies to reviews:**

**Sav.129 [chapter 54]: Your review didn't show! ;(**

**BlerBlerBler [chapter 54]: She is when she's caring! Deep down, she loves her siblings. All of them.**

**Guest (1) [chapter 54]: Indeed! A little bit of Papa Bear Francis down below. He'll confront his son's abuser soon!**

**Guest (2) [chapter 54]: Thank you so much, glad you thought so! More Anne and John moments will definitely come in the future. They need to repair their broken relationship. That will not be so soon but when Francis returns from his little mission, we get some father/children bonding time! I missed Kennash too. Won't be the last we've seen of them and when they come to the castle, reunited as a family with Robin, Francis will have things to say about that ;) That is coming up _really_ soon because nobody touches our little John!**

****Guest (3) [chapter 54]: Here's the next chapter and thanks!****

* * *

"It is true!" Robin cried out, watching Anne and John enter the castle together. "You're friends now."

Anne scowled. "Who says?"

"The royal dressmaker for Uncle Francis's second son's best friend's cousin," Robin replied. "He's the hunting squire who scouted the area for me and my lessons this evening after dinner."

"Did you really need to add all that information?" John asked lightly as they walked on together.

"No, but it's fun," Robin said. "You should try it."

John chuckled. "I guess it helps to know who's who," he said, pointing to a noblewoman walk by with her two, bored children. "Who are they?"

Anne grinned. "The Lady Roche and her annoying twits of children, Hercules and Jennifer. Spoilt brats."

"And you?"

"I resent that," was Anne's reply as they headed up the stairs to Rose's bedchamber. "What do you both think of King Oskar?"

Robin pulled a face. "He's very boring."

"Well, he doesn't enjoy swordplay but that means he is a smart king."

"Or lazy," John replied, receiving a nod from Robin. "Even Papa fights battles for France."

"He's only thirteen-"

"Yet, I've had more experience with weapons than he has had with girls," John told her. "You're better off with someone exciting."

Anne rolled her eyes. "You're boys. You'll never understand."

"No," John admitted. "Because I'm a bastard and Robin's only the Marquis of Avon, someone who's destined to be a knight than a member of politics. We'll never be wedded."

"Speak for yourself," Robin told him. "I'll be a soldier like my papa _and_ marry a beautiful woman too like my mama. Then we will have lots of children and be happy in the middle of the woods where our life supply is the wild animals we've hunted."

"You're a strange boy, Robin," Anne said, giggling with John. "Do you really want children? Either of you?"

John shrugged. "I don't know. I will be fine being a cardinal or something."

"Why a cardinal?" Robin asked him.

"I think they take vows of life-long virginity."

"Do they?" Robin asked, mortified. "Oh, at least soldiers get to bed women."

"Boys," Anne muttered, shaking her head as she pushed the doors open and stepped inside to see Rose and Elliot, hidden underneath sheets. "Oh. Dear. God."

"We weren't doing anything!" Rose quickly said, lifting up a book. "We were identifying different species of birds for our test. Elliot knows his birds."

"And more," Robin and John muttered.

Anne grinned. "I see," she sang, coming to sit down at the dining table. "Why don't you bring that book over, where _everyone_ can see it clearly?"

Rose blushed a bright pink as she got up from the floor with Elliot and slammed the large book onto the wood. "You won't tell Mother and Father, will you? We were just... kissing."

Anne crossed her arms. "One afternoon with the Prince of Gothenburg."

"Fine," Rose snapped, sitting down at the table as the boys took their seats. "Elliot and I will be honest. We're in love."

"And...?" Robin asked, amused.

Rose glared at him. "We want to elope."

"You're only twelve!" John cried out in shock.

"B-But Mother and Father were engaged since they were the twin's age! They fell in love and led a happy life."

Robin bit his lip. "Not so happy," he mumbled. "Elliot, your mother is looking for you. I forgot to say."

Elliot got up and pressed a quick kiss onto a blushing Rose's cheek before he bowed to the rest of the children and left quickly, closing the door behind him. As he left, Anne flicked her hair over her shoulder and turned to Robin.

"We know about Father and Aunt Lola," Anne said, shrugging.

"But do you know who your mama was with whilst he was with Aunt Lola?" Robin retorted, his ears turning red.

The girls and other boy turned to him in wonder.

"She was with... _my_ father," Robin told them.

"How do you know this?" Rose asked, turning to her siblings in horror.

Robin sighed. They didn't need to know about his visions. "My mama told me. She had a little bit too much to drink and told me everything," he lied. "There was this prophecy that Aunt Mary believed in and it said that your father was to die if they married each other. So in order to prevent that and keep France and Scotland united, Grandfather allowed my father to be legitimised so he could be king and marry Aunt Mary. But it turns out that they loved each other but Aunt Mary was deeply in love with Uncle Francis and that is why everything is how it is today."

Anne gasped. "B-But... W-What, how?" Even the other two were in shock.

"Uncle Francis was stripped of his titles and made illegitimate. He then got with Aunt Lola and had John as Aunt Mary and Papa... But Aunt Mary couldn't go through with it and Papa and Uncle Francis fought over her and she chose Uncle Francis. Then... Grandfather forced Mama and Papa to marry each other."

"Papa said that Grandfather was ill, that is why he married them to each other," John stated.

Robin shook his head a little. "Partly. That and he wanted to prevent my father from pursuing Aunt Mary ever again. She was with Uncle Francis, he got his titles back and they lived happily ever after whilst my father had to accept his new life with my mother." He decided to spare them the harsh details. "But the rumours are true... my mother was Grandfather's mistress."

"Do they still love each other?" Anne asked, strained. "Mama and your papa?"

Robin shook his head eagerly. "No! Not at all! Both are happy with who they are truly meant to be with. Uncle Francis for Aunt Mary and my mother for my father. I aspire to have a marriage like my parents', without the forcedness."

Rose nervously eyed him. "Do you think your father loves your mother?"

Robin nodded. "I have no denial when it comes to that. It's like they can't bear to be apart. Even if they're only a floor away from each other. When the plague came, they sent love letters to each other and when the containment was lifted, they couldn't stop kissing and hugging for weeks, it was horrible!"

They giggled and Robin blushed at his parents' antics. They loved each other and that was final. The past was the past.

"Love is complicated," John said after a while. "Perhaps being a cardinal is the smart choice."

"Don't be silly," Anne told him. "You'll meet a pretty girl and she will love you. You already have lands, you're the son of a powerful king, she will be stupid enough not to choose you."

Robin smirked. "You've still got years before you're married off. We should enjoy being unrestricted until then!"

"Do you think that sex hurts?" Rose asked them quietly. "Sometimes when I have night terrors, I got to Mama and Papa but they're _always_ groaning and Mama screams his name."

"Really?" Anne asked. "Lady Josephine didn't scream anyone's name when she was having sex."

"Josephine's not a virgin?" Robin gasped. "Never would have guessed. But she's only twelve and a half!"

John frowned. "I heard it's _nice_. That it hurts girls in their first times but after, it's painless."

"Well, in order to check fertility, one must need to test it out, right?" Anne asked coyly.

"Don't!" Rose said, frowning. "You'll get pregnant and be forced to wed Oskar. Boring Oskar."

"There are ways to prevent that," Robin said, crossing his arms.

"How do you know?"

Robin rolled his eyes. "My parents _always_ have sex. It's disturbing just how much. It surprises me how in the five years since they had Alexander, they've not had any more children. Except for last Christmas but... Anyway, I'm sure they're doing _something_ to stop that."

"And abortions are a thing," John added. "Although it's a sin."

"Sex before marriage _is_ a sin!" Anne cried out. "Maybe I should not after all..."

Robin started to laugh. "You all are cowards. Sex isn't that bad. It's simple enough but it's the pleasure part you need to understand."

They all turned to him. "What did you say?"

"Sex isn't that bad?" Robin asked.

"How would _you_ know?" Anne asked him suspiciously.

Robin shrugged. "The Archduchess of Prussia and I _may_ have done more than kissing. My parents never found out."

"What?!" Rose cried out. "Ew, ew, ew! No...!"

"You've sinned, Robin!" Anne cried out.

"Not really. It's fine for boys because, well..." He blushed. "We can't bear children?" He tried.

Rose slapped a hand to her forehead. "You idiot."

"If you're judging me, then you should judge our fathers and their father and his father-"

"I guess..." John mumbled. "How was it?"

"Meh," Robin said, waving a dismissive hand. "I'm bored, woodplay is almost starting. We should go."

"If Robin's had sex then I want to have sex too!" Anne suddenly said. "Maybe that will like Oskar like me more-"

"Dear God," Rose muttered, shaking her head. "I'm surrounded by idiots."

"Excuse me?" John asked her.

"Save John," she added before giggling.

...

"...I'm telling you, Robin said it from his own lips-"

"Francis, our _twelve-year-old_ nephew has _not_ had sex!"

Francis huffed. "He has! And now our same age daughter wants to do it too!"

Mary raised her eyebrows, amused. "They're kids."

"It's history repeating itself. I'll admit, I was adventurous then but no more than Bash when he was twelve himself! Our children are punishing us for our promiscuous ways!" He cried out. "I am _not_ ready for my daughters, son or nephew to have sex. They're barely teenagers."

Mary smirked. "The legal age for marriage for girls in England is twelve. If we were willing, our daughter would be married off by now and expecting her first child!"

"And having sex?" He asked, mortified.

"Yes, that is what marriage and having children entails. Women as breeding mares from day one."

Francis gasped. "I want the law changed! It should be fourteen at least. No daughter of mine will have sex until they're thirty!"

"Yes, I agree," Mary told him, giggling. "Apart from the sex until thirty part. Anyway, have you invited Bash, Kenna and the children?"

Francis gave her a nod. "Bash has some business in Austria. I might decide to join him on a joint venture."

Mary sighed heavily. "What _venture_ will this be, may I enquire?"

"The Archduke of Vienna is seeking a marriage proposal between his third son and Anastasia. A lovely French princess for an Austrian noble seems fitting. Whilst we're there, I could secure a marriage alliance with his second daughter and Joseph," Francis lied easily. "I didn't want to tell you because Kenna doesn't know."

"Why doesn't she know?" Mary asked him suspiciously, crossing her arms.

"Ana is only six and Bash plans to open up a mine in Vienna but the Archduke wouldn't allow him-"

"Unless he had something of value in return..." Mary trailed off.

_She bought it_, Francis warily thought.

"I see," Mary mumbled. "And where does Joseph fit into this?"

"The Archduke is practically still royalty and if God forbid, James dies and Joseph inherits the throne, he'll have Vienna too," Francis told her. "I am securing our son's future and helping Bash secure our niece's. Vienna is rich and monetisable. We can spare the money worries should the mine prove to flourish for Bash. It's not like he won't loan us money should we need it."

Mary nodded, kissing him. "Good. That's smart. If you need my input, don't hesitate to ask. And next time, tell me before you think about marrying our children off."

"It's not a done deal, my love," Francis said, cupping her cheeks. "Who knows? He might ask for more and we will have to decline politely without hopefully, starting a war. I've heard his temper is... one to be reckoned with."

"Then be careful," she told him, kissing him again. "I love you."

"I love you too."

He left her side and ruffled Robin's hair as they walked past each other.

"Meet me at my offices at eight, Robert. I need you to write down a letter for me to the Archduke of Austria," Francis told him.

Robin grinned. "Yes, Uncle Francis. See you this evening, Uncle Francis."

Francis turned back around and walked away, shaking his head in disbelief. _How could one child be so innocent yet not at the same time_?

"Robin!" Mary called him, wrapping an arm over his shoulders as she looked down to look him in the eye. "Are you enjoying your time here?"

"I am."

"Your parents were hoping to send you to Scotland, but here is better. Closer to home," Mary told him. "Are you happy about that?"

He nodded. "I am," he repeated.

"And..." She bit her lip nervously. "Do you have your eye on any girls in particular? We're all thinking about marriage proposals with the King of Sweden's visit, and the Archduchess of Prussia and Duchess of Hamburg's."

Robin paled. "Oh?"

"Yes," she said. "Perhaps a match in Scotland. Your mother's and I's motherland is beautiful. You'll thrive with a Scottish bride. I mean, look at your father and uncle."

Robin nodded. "Whatever you think is best, Your Ma-Aunt Mary."

"But can I just put this out there?"

"What, Aunt Mary?"

She stopped them and cupped his cheeks. "Sex, Robin."

"W-What?" He asked, eyes wide.

"Just... wait until you're fourteen at least to engage with any sexual activities. And as for your cousins, let them know too," she said, brushing some dirt off his cheek. "We wouldn't want you to be grown before your time. You still want to have fun and be free so don't restrict yourself."

He quickly nodded. "Yes, Aunt Mary."

"Good," she said, kissing his head. "Run along now-"

"Remember when I asked you if my father loved you?"

Mary turned back to him. "I do..."

"You were telling the truth," Robin said softly.

"How do you know that?" Mary asked. He was already smart for his age, they could have an adult conversation.

"I see how my father interacts with my mother... In my visions, he was different when he was with you. As if he was scared to be with you but willing to risk it all. But with my mother, he's not scared when he's with her. He's free, happy, not looking over his shoulder. He'll die for my mother if the case came. He'll do anything for her," he explained.

Mary smiled. "See? You should never doubt me."

"I never did," Robin admitted. "If things were different, do you think he would have been happy with you?"

Mary shook his head. "No," she said honestly. "Your father was meant to be free. Not confined to the duties of a crown, throne and the kingdom they came with. I would imagine that we'd grow apart, come to hate each other. Things, as they are now, are much better, everyone's happy and we will continue to be so."

"I am glad we're honest with each other, Aunt Mary," Robin told her as he began walking away. "See you at dinner."

Mary chuckled. "See you at dinner, Robin."

Mary would never willingly admit this to the boy or his parents, but he was far more special than he let on. Albeit a little cheeky and restless like his father, Robin did have redeeming qualities and she would never forget the hero he was, saving Rose from their kidnappers and willing to give his life.

Kenna was right, he truly was a _sweet_ robin.


	56. A Stepson Called John For The Queen

**Replies to reviews:**

**Guest (1) [chapter 55]: He really is! Same! I had to do research and was shocked to see that children their age had sex but then again, they didn't have today's healthcare services to make it beyond age 30 at times so it made sense to marry off children as soon as they hit puberty and made kids. Ooh, Francis may walk in on one of his kids soon as he did with Rose at the party!**

**Guest (2) [chapter 55]: Anne and Robin truly are cheeky! Rose is on the fence, should she, should she not? Haha! She's a good girl so probably not.**

****Guest (3) [chapter 55]: They really are! Sex was forbidden subject when I was their age, haha!****

* * *

Italy was hot. The weather was wonderful but Francis wasn't there to enjoy it. He had been taken into the country secretly, no one finding out why he and Bash were there via Catherine's aid.

For the few days that they were here, they'd be staying at the Medici compounds. The Medicis were known for their business acumen, owning the large majority of banks in Florence and across Italy. They were also known for their discretion.

"You should be thanking me," Catherine began, pouring them all some wine. "I found Lola a suitable match. People were still talking about the harlot, I saved your marriage.

Francis rolled his eyes. "Lola isn't a threat to my marriage, Mother," he said disparagingly. "Mary and I have got through that."

"So it was Mary's decision to have John Philip stay at Court?"

"It was," Francis said firmly. "My wife decided on her own merit and she loves him like her own."

Catherine let out a scoff, eyeing Bash briefly. "We all know how that will turn out. And the other children approve of their bastard brother claiming a place at Court?"

"Bash claimed a place at Court," Francis stated. "The boys adored him and still do."

"And Claude took him to her bed and couldn't get over that little thing she thought they had," Catherine replied.

"I am here, you know?" Bash cut in.

Catherine smiled wryly. "Unfortunately. Our relationship borderlines on love and hate, Sebastian."

"Don't I know it?" Bash muttered, taking a long gulp from his cup. "Let's forget about the past and figure out a way to get close to this duke."

"And what would you do?" Catherine asked, taking a seat. "Kill him in his home? Slaughter him in front of his betrothed and sons? Cut his hands off? Why are you so set in punishing this man? A little discipline never hurt anybody."

Francis glared at his mother. "John is still your grandson, Mother. Legitimate or not."

"I feel for Mary," the matriarch muttered.

"And there's a thin line between discipline and abuse," Francis added. "Either way, no man touches my son like that and gets away with it."

"Would you be the same for your legitimate children? You always seemed to love John more than the rest," Catherine stated. "Perhaps that is why you kept him away, so Mary couldn't suspect that."

Francis sighed. "I will kill, for my children. I killed the man who kidnapped my daughter and nephew and I made him pay. I love all my children equally, something you should learn how to do too."

"Touched a soft spot, did I?" His mother asked. "If you truly believe that your wife is as strong as I was when I accommodated Sebastian, then good on you. But deep down, you both know that _she_ wasn't the first woman to bear your children, to bear your _son_. Her children will always come after John Philip and they will see how things change when you start being more lenient on him, stay to pet him to bed longer than you do them, take him out on hunting trips, make him your best friend because your other sons are too young to fight or understand the world around them, take him to the whorehouse for his first sexual encounter... Then easily become bored when the next child comes and asks you do to the same things you did with him but with them."

Francis sighed. "I'm not Father," he said. "I hate how our lives parallel with each other's but I am better than him. At least I gave my wife the courtesy of a decision that regarded her in the first place."

Bash poured himself more wine. "Henry may have done all of that with me and got bored doing it with the others, but he never gave me a title, he never stopped anyone from slandering my name, he had men released like hounds on the prowl to _kill_ me. Smoke and mirrors, Catherine. That was all Henry was. He was a good father, but deep down the truth was, he wasn't. Who manipulates a fourteen-year-old to commit patruelicide? Then to award me with nothing afterwards, no matter how horrible what he made me do to the Bourbons was?"

Catherine clicked her tongue. "Fair enough." She got up and retrieved a letter. "Vincenzo invited me over for supper. As a 'thank you' for his lovely, young bride. There will be a feast and wine and he told me to bring along anyone who wishes to dine with us."

"It's too... exposed," Bash said. "Our wives believe we're in Austria. If we have Italian nobility knowing we're here, word would spread quickly and we could start a war we do not want."

"He is on the Council of Florentine," Catherine mumbled. "I will invite him here."

"And how would we do it?" Francis asked, his voice strained.

Catherine gave him a look. "I have poison. Slow-acting, quick-acting. Ones that have your face explode by the second. Pick your poison."

"Mother-"

"As you said, John Philip is my grandson and I want Vincenzo to pay for taking my goodwill for granted."

Bash nodded, heading to the door. "Send the page, and get me when he comes."

...

Mary almost jumped when she entered the twin's bedchamber and found John reading the younger children a book. She smiled and headed over to them, getting onto the chaise and laying down. She winked at him when he looked up quickly to see her and blush, looking back down.

"Mama, John can do the voices!" James said, wrapping his arms around his brother's neck and laying his cheek down on John's back. "He's really good at them, better than Papa."

Peter nodded. "And he doesn't waste time!" He said. "Papa's slow. John's quick!"

Mary giggled. "You better not say that to Papa," she said, playfully rolling her eyes. Her children and their obsession for stories coming to life.

"But he is better," Joseph said defiantly, making his mother laugh.

"The last page," John announced much to the children's disdain.

"More, please!" Anastasia cried out.

"Yes, more!" Alexander demanded.

John laughed. "It's the third book I've read to you!"

"And you should all be getting ready to sleep," Mary added, standing up and heading to the bed to lift her niece into her arms and put her down on the ground before retrieving Xander. "Your mother was looking for both of you."

"John reads us stories," Ana said, grabbing her teddy and walking towards the door, humming to herself.

_They've forgotten that there was one last page_, Mary thought, amused. "Right, come on, let John head off to his bedchamber." She offered a hand to James to help him off the bed. "James, to your bedchamber and Peter, to your bed!"

Peter scrambled down the bed and went over to the other one, opposite from Joseph's. "Tuck me in, Mama?"

"Yes! Tuck us in!" James said, clutching at her skirts.

Mary almost stumbled from the weight but she laughed, nodding. "Very well," she said. "Let me tuck Joseph and Peter in first."

By the time she had all younger children tucked in, she headed out of Xander's bedchamber and found John waiting for her. Wrapping an arm around his shoulders, they walked away from the bedchamber.

"How are you settling in?" She asked him carefully.

"Well," he said. "Anne said she's taking us to the fairground tomorrow."

"It's the best," Mary said with a smile. "You're in for a treat."

John returned the smile. "Aunt Mary?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think bastards can find love?"

Mary frowned. "What do you mean, John?"

"Can b-"

"I heard you but what foolery are you thinking of?" She cut him off softly. "What's brought this on?"

John blushed when they came to a stop and turned to face each other fully. "I want to become a cardinal because..."

Mary cupped his cheeks. "Speak freely."

"No one loves bastards," John whispered. "Not even royal ones."

"Follow me," she said, taking his hand and leading him downstairs to the throne room.

"Why are we here?"

Mary swallowed deeply. "Fourteen years ago, a king's bastard son married one of my ladies-in-waiting here under swordpoint."

John turned to her. "I know. Uncle Bash and Auntie Kenna."

"Yes."

"Father said that Grandfather was very ill and forced them to marry each other," John said. "But I heard that Auntie Kenna was Grandfather's mistress and that in order for Uncle Bash to stop pursuing your heart, he was married off to her."

Mary turned to him. "Robin?"

"Yes, he said his mother told him."

Mary knew otherwise. The visions came and went. "That is true, John. Regardless, Bash fell in love with Kenna."

"And?"

"Bash was a royal bastard, like you. He still is and you will always be so but that shouldn't define who you are," Mary said. "Being a bastard didn't define Bash any longer. He was a hero to the Scottish and French thrones, he returned Robin and Rose back home. He fought for France during the revolution. Your uncle fights battles for other people and he got married, fell in love and had three beautiful children. All being a _bastard_."

John shrugged. "So?"

Mary chuckled softly. "If you knew your aunt back then, you'd be so confused as to why she's how she is today. I can't speak ill of my dear friend, but she was a little _vain_. She cared about money, titles, land and life's luxuries. Your uncle, he had none. The money he had was funded by his father and he had a reasonably larger bedchamber as the King's favourite child but that was about it. Oh, how mortified she was to be married to Bash but she saw him. She fell in love with him despite all of that because they protected each other. Marriage was final, it couldn't be undone so they had to get used to each other and when they did..."

"He was happy?"

Mary nodded, tears springing to her eyes. "Six years ago, I witness their second wedding day. Nobody else mattered, nothing mattered. They only saw each other."

"So people can see beyond the tainted title?"

"They can," Mary whispered. "Oh, John, they can! Love is... love is blind. Yes, Kenna saw that he was Henry's bastard but she acknowledged that she was Henry's mistress. So, she put her judgments aside and got to know Bash and became inspired by him. Whenever he went off on duty matters, she'd wait by every window we walked passed to see if he returned. She'd have dinner ready, a warm bath and she'd be there to listen and care for her husband... Their love was unconventional but it worked and to this day, it still works."

John blushed. "I don't want to be a cardinal."

"Then what do you want to be?"

"A soldier," John said. "Like Robin."

Mary laughed. "You can be whatever you want to be! John, this is your life and no matter what, your father, mother and I will always have your back. We'll have your best interests at heart and we will protect you from anyone who harms you or wishes you ill."

"Will Father let me join the military?"

"If he says 'no', I'll convince him myself," Mary promised John. "You're so brave."

"I don't feel like it," John mumbled, staring at the thrones before them. "I'm scared all the time."

Mary looked down at him. "Why's that?"

"Mother might force me to come back to Italy after the wedding," John told her, his voice breaking. "I don't want to go back."

"I know," Mary said. "And if anyone tells you to go back, I will personally tell them that you are staying. This is your _home_."

...

"She's not your mother, John," Kenna said to her nephew gently.

John nodded. "I know but what if... what if I asked her to be?"

"What has Lola done that you are even asking this?" The Duchess of Avon asked, heading down the hall with John trailing behind her.

"N-Nothing, it's just... She doesn't pay me much mind anymore," John said. "I spend my days with the governesses, trapped indoors all the time. Here, Aunt Mary lets me go to the woods! And I have a horse and a new dog!"

Kenna chuckled. "Gifts? I see..."

"I need a neutral party to help me with my decision."

Kenna sighed, stopping and crossing her arms. "I'm not the best person to speak to about this."

"You are! You are their friend. You grew up with them," John said.

"One gave birth to you, another birthed your half-siblings," Kenna said. "Make the choice yourself or better yet, don't put yourself through that!"

"Aunt Mary cares more about me than Father or Mother does."

Kenna rolled her eyes. "I doubt that."

"No, it's true! All Mother cares about is Duke Vincenzo and his stupid vineyards and sons," John snapped. "She even let his youngest son call her _his_ mother!"

Kenna frowned a little. "Don't be spiteful or jealous, John-"

"Auntie Kenna, do you know when Uncle Bash is coming?" John cut her off, upset.

Kenna shrugged. "I don't know," she replied. "I'm sorry that I am not much help."

"Tell me what to do," John begged her.

"Talk to Mary," Kenna suggested. "She always knows best. Most of the time. As for my adventurous husband, when he arrives, I will send him your way."

John nodded. "Fine."

"Now, head off to bed. It is very late and past your bedtime," Kenna instructed him.

Just as he was about to go, John asked her, "Before you married Uncle Bash, what did you think about him as a bastard?"

Kenna smiled softly. "Well, we weren't the closest of friends before but he was very helpful and we did share some champagne once... He was kind and I didn't really care that he was a bastard because I found him quite sex-..." She blushed, keeping the lesson clean. "I-I mean, I found him quite a charmer and lovely man. I'd admit, I wanted someone above his station but coming to think about it, I wanted someone who loved me for me. Bastards tend to be humbler than most so we fit perfectly. He saved my life and I saved his."

"Do you think someone would love me one day?"

"You're going around asking this question as if your life depends on it," Kenna said lightly.

"It does," John said firmly.

Kenna cupped his cheeks. "Someone will love you just as I fell for your uncle. You will be their whole world and they would want to spend their every waking breath with you. Patience, John. Kiss a few frogs before you find the one or better yet, the one may come and you just don't realise it until a few years down the line. I certainly didn't when I first met Bash, that's for sure."

John chuckled and closed his eyes when he felt her lips press against his forehead. "Goodnight, Auntie Kenna."

"Goodnight, John Philip."

...

Catherine chuckled at Morelli's joke, turning her gaze over to Francis and Bash when he brought them up.

"What brings the King of France to Italy?" Vincenzo asked, sipping his beloved wine.

"My mother wrote to say that she was unwell," Francis said, pointedly taking Catherine's hand. "She could be leaving us any day now."

Catherine masked her horror with a tight smile. "You know me, I won't give up and die easily. It was a silly cold, I got over it by the time he arrived."

Francis turned to his mother. "I still wanted to see for myself how you were doing. It has been a while."

"Well, I guess I can't complain," Catherine said, chuckling as she turned back to Morelli. "He's the only child that visits me."

"The Queen of Spain can't find time for her mother?" Vincenzo asked in surprise. "I was told she was your favourite."

"Even queens can get busy and forget a visit now and then," Catherine replied tersely.

"And your other sons? Even your other daughters?"

Catherine smiled. "They are healthy and that is all I am concerned with regarding them. Their happiness is all I ask for."

Vincenzo cleared his throat and pulled at his collar, sweat starting to build on his forehead. "The spices used are very _hot_."

"We're used to it," Francis said. "I have good friends in the spice trade, food tastes better thanks to them."

"I-I-I'm sure of that, Y-Your Majesty," Morelli struggled to get out. "If you'd ex-"

He began to froth at his mouth and he clutched at his neck, his eyes watching Francis stand up and bend down to reach his eyesight.

"John Philip," Francis said softly. "You hurt him."

Vincenzo tried to shake his head but gave up, trying to spit out the froth.

Catherine cleared her throat, sipping her wine casually. "It's a poison that attacks every organ in your body, one by one. The last one being your heart. You will feel the heat inside you, feel as your body gives up and your eyes pool with blood."

"I'm sorr-"

"It's too late for that," Francis cut him off, accepting a napkin from Bash to wipe Vincenzo's spit off his face. "He is just a boy. How could a boy threaten your marriage?"

Vincenzo shook his head.

"Is it because of me? The fact that I'm his father? You saw him as an easy target, a chance to abuse the son of a king," Francis continued. "You should have been more thoughtful about who you marked with red bruises and harsh words."

"I don't know if it's true," Catherine began. "But he once locked John Philip with the horses for two nights."

Francis raised his eyebrows, turning back to Morelli. "I'm going to give you a choice," he told the man. "Either way, your body is carted off to your sons and the Lady Lola is free of her engagement to an abusive monster."

Vincenzo swallowed hard, nodding shakily.

"My brother ends your life with his sword or we leave you to the poison's vices," Francis whispered into his ear.

The old man eyed Bash and Francis nodded, standing back up.

"Very well," the King said. "Bash, he's all yours. Mother, shall we leave them to it?"

Catherine got up, collecting the decanter and her cup. "Shame, I was excited to see death here. Haven't had one since the driver got ran over by the horses last month."

As Catherine headed out, Francis paused by the doors and turned, going over to the table and collecting his wine cup. He sat back down at the head of the table and took a long sip from his cup before nodding at Bash.

He decided to watch.


	57. A Deceived Queen

**Replies to reviews:**

**elder441 [chapter 56]: Lola isn't my favourite either, haha. The consequences are shown below. You'll just have to see ;)**

**Guest (1) [chapter 56]: John really is and he's lucky to have a father like Francis! Mary's relationship with John is really flourishing and this allows John a better relationship with his siblings and cousins, especially Robin as the only other older boy.**

**Guest (2) [chapter 56]: It's always the grandparents who are set in their ways, especially about discipline. Francis may be in his thirties but he will be known as the adult king with the strict and eager to smack mother, haha! Francis and Mary haven't disciplined their children in terms hitting them but they do have harsh, strict words with them and I'd imagine the governesses smacking the children with their parents' permission. They'd be the good, fun parents mostly and the governesses would be the evil ones, haha. John has joined our baby squad! I wouldn't say that John is Francis's favourite as their relationship is broken and strained and they are working on that. Catherine is trying to plant the seed in Francis's head because of what happened with Henry, Bash and Henry's lack of attention to her own children except for Francis as the future heir. But we obviously know that Henry did most things for himself to feel better. I would say that Anne is still Francis's favourite but as the girls grow older, he's mellowed out on favouritism in favour of being more aware that his sons need coaching through life as the Dauphin of France and the Dauphin's two heirs for now.**

* * *

"How was Austria?" Mary asked, taking a seat on the bed by her husband's frame. She ran her fingers through his hair and watched as he opened his eyes in slight confusion.

"Austria?" He mumbled before his eyes became more alert. "Oh, the deal fell through. Barely stepped through the compound before the Archduke backed down from his offer - said having two French royals in the family would be bad for business."

Mary frowned a little. "Is he serious?"

"I think he couldn't come up with an excuse because we found out that he's pretty much worthless and his businesses are bust," Francis replied, grateful he did his research regardless. "We went to Hungary instead but nothing came up worthwhile."

He hated how good at lying he had got when it came to Mary. Five years ago, they'd been repairing their marriage but he still found something to complain about. He had been working on that but couldn't help keep some things from her because that was just how marriage was. Keeping things from each other.

"Bash must be gutted," Mary said. "Sorry to hear that."

"Yes, he is but everything happens for a reason, Mary," her husband replied, getting out of the bed. He could sleep later. "How were the children?"

Mary knew what that meant. Whenever he went off, he never had to ask because their children were always well-behaved but now he was asking because he wanted to know about _John_.

"They were well behaved, as usual, the boys enjoyed John reading them bedtime stories," Mary replied with a smile.

"Is that so?"

"Yes," she said with a giggle as she watched him get dressed. "They love him and he's been so happy here."

"That's good," Francis said in relief. "Mary, if John came to you with concerns of his, would you tell me?"

Mary nodded. "Of course, he's your son."

"Thank you."

"For what?"

Francis sat down beside her, taking her hand. "For accepting him. I know it is difficult and he was the cause of some conflicts in our marriage."

Mary rolled her eyes lightly. "He is a child. He's innocent and I can't punish him for yours and Lola's sins."

"Mary-"

"The past, Francis. Leave it in the past because we are happy now with our _six_ children," she said, making Francis shake in shock. She accepted him. History won't repeat itself with his father and older half-brother.

Francis kissed her. "I love you, Mary. I always will, do not ever forget that."

Mary smiled at him, cupping his cheek. "I know. I love you too, Francis."

She squealed when he pushed her back against the bed and attacked her face with kisses.

"Somebody missed their wife," she said as he started to undo her laces and his trousers.

"Somebody missed their _queen_," he replied, kissing her.

...

John handed the reins of his horse to the stableboy and turned, taking his gloves off. With his gaze down low, he didn't realise he was walking into someone and that person gently stopped him from falling back with a soft chuckle.

"Children these days can't see what's beyond their noses," Bash said to him, lifting John's chin up. "You're taller."

"Uncle Bash!" John cried out, hugging him tightly. "Robin said you were here."

Bash smiled, pulling back. "He's not the reason I'm here."

"Did my father tell you?" John asked shyly.

"And many others," Bash said. "Let's get out of here."

They ended up at the local town. Many people noticed Bash and thanked him, offering fruit or things valuable to _them_ as offerings. He politely rejected them but did take an apple before throwing it over to John who caught it.

"Most important meal of the day - breakfast," he told the boy.

"Why are we here?" John asked, eyeing some people begging.

Bash sighed. "These people... I was their voice. I still am in a way," he said. "Your father opened up a school a few years back on my lands. I hired teachers to teach local children how to read and write and get their families out of poverty."

"You're their hero," John said in awe.

"I really am not," Bash said. "Because there's not a day that goes by when I don't think about 'what if I was one of them'? You've been told about my father, _your_ grandfather. He got bored easily and sadly, I was one of his playthings."

John winced. "Was he a bad man?"

"Not at first," Bash admitted. "But even kings have their bad days. He happened to have _a lot_ and he wasn't always _in_ the castle. His state of mind was in pieces. He exiled me to Spain, did so a lot. Threatened to have me cast out into the woods but he forgot that the woods were my kingdom."

They headed towards the woods, the harsh darkness behind it gone as years went by. It became a place of leisure for people, many noblemen taking their sons on camping and hunting trips. Some of the townsfolk even used it to gain money, opening their own hunting grounds to appeal to the rich.

"I could survive five months in the wood if I really wanted to," Bash said. "I was free but I was free inside a prison."

"That doesn't make sense," John stated.

Bash smiled wryly. "It doesn't. But it made sense then. How's your archery?"

"I'm a bit rusty," John admitted.

"Huh," Bash said as they walked over to an archery grounds. He paid the stall minder and retrieved two bows and two quivers of arrows.

"What are we doing?"

Bash turned to him, handing him a bow and quiver as John pocketed the rest of his apple. "We're practising. Well, you are."

"For what?"

"Next week, your sisters and aunts are travelling," Bash began, putting his quiver on. "And us men are going on a hunting trip."

John gasped. "Really?"

"Have you ever been on a hunting trip?"

The boy shook his head. "No..."

"I always take Robin," Bash said. "He'll be happy to help teach you should you need it."

John grinned. "That would be great."

...

"If we didn't know better," Kenna said lowly to Mary as they watched Bash and John laugh and talk animatedly. "People would have thought John was Bash's."

"They're like souls," Mary replied with a warm smile when John's eyes met her own. She waved and he waved back with a blush before turning back to Bash. "I guess it's Henry's genes that show in our husbands and John. Even Peter looks like him according to Catherine."

Kenna cringed. "Thank God none of my children takes after their father mostly," she said lightly. "Imagine seeing the man who... Forgive me, who needs to think about the past when we're living in the present?"

Mary squeezed Kenna's hand as they passed man and nephew. "So, what did Bash tell you about Austria?"

Kenna shrugged. "Not much, really. He only tells me things of importance."

"You're not curious?"

"Should I be?"

Mary chuckled. "No. I guess your marriage is based on trust and you don't need to tell each other the little things."

Kenna frowned a little. "Now, you're making me scared, Mary."

"I don't know," Mary muttered. "I received a letter from the Medicis, thanking Francis for his brief visit."

"Austria and Italy _do_ share a border," Kenna said to her friend. "He might have visited Catherine on the way back."

"The dates... They don't align with what Francis told me."

"He must have got his dates mixed," Kenna explained. "Bash does all the time and we sometimes miss the school's morning bell because he thinks it's still Sunday."

Mary laughed. "I guess. Small mercies you get off lightly because your children are royalty."

Kenna grinned. "I do get you. They might have gone from here to Italy and from Italy to Austria-"

"To Hungary," Mary finished. "Yes. And then return via that way."

"You don't need to scrutinise-"

"Lola?"

"What? No, not Lola-"

"No, look," Mary said, pointing where a very emotional Lola was heading towards them. "Lola's here."

Kenna stepped forwards in time for Lola to launch herself into the other woman's arms, sobbing loudly. Alarmed, she turned to Mary who shrugged in reply and rubbed Lola's back.

"Lola, whatever happened?" Mary asked her.

"Oh, everything's ruined!" Lola sobbed.

...

Mary paced the room. "Francis, they will order for her blood to be spilt! Her betrothed was a high figure in Italian politics!"

Francis sighed from his desk, rubbing his head. "I know. I am doing everything I can to ensure they do not remove her from France."

"They could start a war!"

"I doubt it," Francis said. "My mother is a Medici, remember? Her family rule Italy as it is. They won't try anything with me. I share their blood."

Mary sighed. "The Grand Duke of Tuscany wants an audience," she said. "He's your mother's distant cousin, a soldier who runs Italy. He doesn't take 'no' for an answer."

"Look, Lola will not be killed for something she didn't do."

"You believe her?"

"She's the mother of my son, of course, I do," Francis replied. "And she's your friend."

Mary studied him. "Were you in Italy when the Duke died?"

"I can't recall my every move, Mary," Francis said. "Yes, we visited my mother along the way - she was bemoaning the fact that the others have more or less abandoned her. I was near, she was unwell and I was in Italy, trying to get back to France. The Grand Duke even sent us some gifts and we asked that our visit be discreet."

"Why wouldn't you want people to know you were in Italy, Francis?" Mary asked, crossing her arms.

Francis sighed. "I didn't want to offend the Pope by not granting him an audience," he said. "You know how he is, the minute I step out of France for pleasure reasons, he would demand I see him and affirm my faith."

"Why wouldn't you want to affirm your faith?"

"Mary, you are asking too many questions, my love," he said, getting up and placing his hands on her forearms gently. "I'm tired, I've barely seen the children-"

"I know when you lie, Francis," Mary said softly. "Don't see me for a fool." She cupped his cheek. "You have that look."

He frowned. "What look?"

"The look of satisfaction," she whispered. "One only gets when they've... taken a life. I know that look, I've had it myself."

"Mary-"

"Did you kill Duke Morelli?"

"No," Francis said. He wasn't lying. Technically, Catherine started it and Bash ended it. He was a spectator. "Mary, I promise you that I had nothing to do with Vincenzo's death. Why would I want to disrupt my illegitimate son's mother's life?"

Mary scoffed. "You demanded his name from me."

"You lied," he said. "You knew who he was-"

"I just wanted Lola to be happy and we'd solved the issue by having John here permanently!" Mary cried out. "How could you?!"

"I didn't do anything!" Francis cried back, stepping away from her. "It's nice to know that my wife trusts and believes me."

Mary laughed scornfully. "Oh, Francis, don't forget you felt exactly the same years ago. We are past that, aren't we?"

"We are-"

"Then don't lie to me."

Francis shook his head. "I'm not."

The door opened and Bash handed Francis a letter.

"Cosimo de Medici demands an audience. The first letter was out of courtesy, but this one... he's coming _here_."

Francis scanned the letter and turned to his wife. "Mary, I will find out who killed Lola's fiancé and clear her name. She is our subject, she will _not_ be forced away from us."

Mary looked between the brothers and rolled her eyes. "Both of you need to work on your deceitful faces," she told them. "I can read you as clear as glass. I hope it was worth it. Starting all of this."

"Mary, my son will _always_ be worth it," Francis snapped, leaving the room.

Bash paused by the door. "It was me," he said. "John sought my help and I provided it. Francis didn't know."

Mary slowly walked up to him. "You'd kill someone for a boy you barely know?"

"You forget that John used to spend Summers at Avon when he was a boy as Kenna and Lola drank in the sun and he and Robin played," Bash said. "It's hard for bastards enough to be beaten and threatened beneath their loved ones' noses. So, yes. I will kill for John. I would even kill for you, Kenna, Francis, all of our daughters and sons... That's what family do. We protect each other and we kill for each other." He began to back out. "You should tell Lola to stop falling for the bad ones. It certainly doesn't help our image killing them off all the time. Not that we killed _anyone_, right?"

As he walked away, Mary set her jaw and shook her head in disbelief. But it was true, she couldn't deny that.

Stephane Narcisse was a betrayer to the throne, his head and body separately buried in the woods. Colin tried to rape Mary all those years ago, which now felt like a whole damn lifetime away. Now, Vincenzo Morelli, the man who abused her son as Lola stood by and did nothing out of duty to her future husband and the desperate need to secure her future.

Mary cursed, leaving the offices.


	58. A Manipulative Queen

**Replies to reviews:**

**Sav.129 [chapter 57]: Ooh, still some more tension to come!**

**Guest (1) [chapter 57]: She might or...**

****Guest (2) [chapter 57]: Doing such a thing is punishable ;)****

* * *

Cosimo was a lean bit of a man, he'd taken to wearing his armour as he marched into the castle, flanked by men. His steely blue eyes met Francis's own blues as they walked to each other, meeting in the middle just before the throne hall.

Francis reached out a hand, everybody's breath held. "Cousin."

Cosimo glanced at the hand before taking it, firmly shaking it. "Your Majesty," he said.

"I received your letters," Francis told him. "You have got it wrong."

"Have I?" Cosimo snapped, retrieving his hand. "The Duke was found in his bed, trousers off, lipstick stains on his person."

"Perhaps heart failure," Francis suggested. "He was an indulgent man."

Cosimo chuckled wryly. "He was poisoned."

Francis mentally scolded his mother for _not_ using something traceable. "I see."

"Lady Lola was said to be learning the arts of poison during her time in Italy," Cosimo continued. "Coincidence?"

"You were misinformed," Francis told him. "She was studying the art of botany. The Duke had suggested her to do so considering she would help in running their vineyards."

Cosimo narrowed his eyes. "Do not take me for a fool."

Francis really wished everyone would stop saying that. "You are no fool, Cousin," he replied. "If I'm honest..." He lowered his voice and leant closer to Cosimo. "Lady Lola wrote a few weeks ago to stress that the Duke was partaking in sexual favours between other women. She was planning to call the wedding off but he promised to stop. Look where it got him, killed by a woman of the night."

Cosimo faltered. "I see."

"Lady Lola was in love with him, she dedicated her time into being the best partner for him," Francis continued, slipping an arm around Cosimo's shoulders as he directed them to his offices. "She even had our shared son sent here so she could devote herself to Vincenzo. Now her heart is broken and will never be repaired. Her first husband, tragically killed in a fire. Her second one, killed by a prostitute... Luck is not on her side. She believes it will never happen for her, that she will live to be a spinster because God cannot allow her one chance at love."

Cosimo stopped and Francis turned to face him. "I apologise for having troubled you."

"It's quite alright," Francis said with a fake smile. Not that Cosimo could see through it. "She's inconsolable, heartbroken. He was the one for her and now, she can never step foot in Italy because we fear she will kill herself over her grief."

"Oh, do look after her," Cosimo said, alarmed.

"The Queen is there for her and so are other relatives," Francis assured him. "Please, stay for a while. Perhaps, you'd like to meet the children?"

Cosimo smiled. "I have my own to get back to. This was a flying visit - we still have an investigation to perform on finding the woman who did this."

"Of course," Francis replied. "You know what? My brother, he was King's Deputy. These days, he does other things but I will offer you his aid. We must bring this woman to justice."

Cosimo nodded gratefully. "We would appreciate the Archduke's help. He is the best in France."

"And Scotland," Francis added. "I will even send a few men for the cause."

"You're too kind."

"Anything for family," Francis said. "Including my son's mother."

Cosimo bowed for the first time that day. "Your Majesty, we accept your help."

...

"If you weren't a king," Kenna began, slowing sipping her wine as Mary glared at her husband and brother-in-law. "I'd say you should be an actor!"

Francis chuckled, taking a sip from his own goblet. "Mary, it's over."

"What if he finds out we're lying? What if he realises that there is no madam and comes back to France?" Mary asked, pacing the room.

"Just focus on Lola and how she portrays herself," Bash told her.

Mary turned to him. "How did you do it?"

"He chose death," Bash replied indifferently. "He had the choice to live or to die, either way, he knew he would forever be at Francis's mercy for striking John Philip."

Mary couldn't argue with that. "Was it... was it painful? Did you make him suffer?"

"Why do you want to know?" Francis asked.

"Because Lola's out of her wits! She may be protected now they know she didn't do it, but she still wonders because she loved him!" Mary cried out.

Kenna scoffed. "She loved his money and title, that's for sure," she mumbled, coming over to sit on Bash's lap. "Lola's fine."

"No... I know that!" Mary said with a sigh. "But don't you know what this means for her? She's back _here_ and she wanted to avoid here at all costs because of _me_. Now, I've taken her son and he... prefers _me_ over her. Vincenzo allowed her to not be referred to as Francis's mistress because he was powerful to have the gossip silenced."

"Oh," Francis replied. "That's sadly true."

Mary sighed. "What will we do with her? She's just aimlessly going through life and here we are happy and she's not."

"John still has his barony," Francis said. "She could live there in peace and we'll host parties so she can find another husband."

"She's a black widow," Mary stated. "No one will touch her now."

"I'm trying, Mary!"

"I know," Mary replied, sitting down. "We should let her stay for a month to get her bearings back and see what _she_ wants."

Kenna placed her cup down. "Scotland's always an option or even England."

"I fear Scotland may be out of the question, her family are powerful and they still have her disowned," Mary replied. "England, it is."

"Or Sweden," Kenna continued. "Sweden's nice."

"Well, we'll see," Mary mumbled, getting up. "I will check on the children and Kenna?"

"Yes?" Kenna replied, taking her cup back and finishing her wine.

"Stop drinking."

Kenna grinned, pouring some more.

...

"Where are you going?"

Mary turned to face her husband. "My bedchamber."

"Mary, why?"

"I don't trust you, Francis," she mumbled.

Francis sighed. "And what about me? What about what happened five or six years ago? I'm sorry, Mary. It had to be done."

Mary swallowed hard. "And what if it backfalls on us all? Cosimo is powerful and I don't want to lose you or our children to rage over something as menial as this."

"My son being beaten to an inch of his life isn't menial, Mary," Francis stated angrily.

"I know," Mary said, cursing mentally. "I didn't mean... I just meant that we could have done things better, smarter, _quieter_."

"If someone beat Anne up black and blue and I wasn't there to protect her, what would you do?"

Mary gave him a look. "Rose was taken, remember? I was willing to give up my throne, my dignity for my child's safety. I just didn't want any blood spilt and it worked. If it meant being humiliated, I will lash my own back to protect our children."

"There's the difference between you and me," Francis said quietly. "I am not willing to be shown as _weak_. A good king never shows the hand he's dealt with. He gets rid of his enemies in secret. Then, he attacks. Once they see they've got to you by using the life you made against you, you've lost the battle _and_ the whole damn war with it."

"I'm weak?" Mary asked, eyes wide in anger.

"You're manipulative," Francis told her. "You use your weakness as your strength. Our children. Anne, Rose, James, Joseph, Peter. They contribute to your actions. With John, a part of me is remorseful. That I couldn't be there for him as he grew up, that the only thing he'll remember me for is for having his abuser killed. He won't resent me any more than he does already."

Mary bowed her head. "Francis," she said softly. "If he had been a man of low ranking, of less power then I would have stood beside you but he wasn't. There is a price to pay when you lie to those who can destroy you easily. Cosimo has the whole of Italy under his control, he _has_ the Pope, the Vatican! They will put you before God and say you acted unjustly."

"As long as no one finds out," Francis replied. "We're going to be fine. Now, please."

"What?"

"Stay?"

Mary slowly nodded. "I guess if anything happens, at least we'll have tonight."

"Mary..."

"I speak in jest," she snapped lightly before discarding of her robe and getting into their bed.

She flinched when he got into the bed and kissed her jawline. He sighed and returned to his side. Feeling guilty, she straddled his hips and kissed him hard, grinding into him a little.

"Never. Do. Something. As. Stupid. As. That. Again," she demanded in between kisses, her hands slipping down his undershorts.

Francis stared up at her, transfixed. "I won't," he promised, his voice strained. "I don't intend for our children to ever be harmed again."

Mary smiled softly and kissed him, her fingers lacing into his curls. "And next time, tell me. Don't lie or keep things from me."

"I won't," he promised again, his voice getting higher.

Another kiss. "And don't go having blood on your hands."

"I won't," he breathed out, his eyes darkening when she kissed his pressure point. His hands went to her hips, rubbing her skin through the material of her nightdress.

"If you do," she whispered into his ear. "I will kill you myself."

"I won't. I swear."

Mary bit his ear gently before pulling away and getting off of him. She smirked when she fixed herself up and noticed his evident arousal. "Excuse me, the boys requested a story."

Francis narrowed his eyes, covering himself up. "You did that on purpose."

"You need to be punished somehow," Mary told him nonchalantly as she got out of their bed and retrieved her robe from the floor. "If you want to ever have sex with me again, you will have to find Lola someone else."

"Why should I?" He whined, almost sounding like a child. "Everyone she marries either ends up dead, burnt alive or..."

"Murdered by you?"

"Again, I have no blood on _my_ hands," he said, raising his hands in defence. "I will see what I can do."

Mary smiled in triumph. "Until she finds someone suitable, I am off-limits."

Francis cursed and threw one of their pillows at her. She ducked, giggling as she left the room. "You're evil, Mary!"

"Then, learn your lesson," she threw over her shoulder, turning to the guards. "Excuse His Majesty. He's _disgruntled_. I apologise for anything that may-"

Something hit the door and she jumped, shaking her head at the guards.

"Oh, he's not aiming at you, don't worry," she told them when they flinched in amusement. "Not that he can come out with how I left him. If he continues to act like a child, feel free to remove anything throwable from the room until I return."

She walked on, grinning to herself. What a manipulative woman she was, indeed.


	59. A Teasing Queen

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**Sav.129 [chapter 58]: So sorry about that! Here's the next chapter!**

**Guest (1) [chapter 58]: It really was, hehe ;)**

**elder441 [chapter 57]: Glad you thought so! Doesn't end there!**

****Guest (2) [chapter 58]: Thank you! I'm glad it is! Here's the next chapter.****

* * *

"She's pure evil," Francis said, downing his wine and slamming the cup onto the table. "I've never met anyone as devious as her."

Bash started to laugh, almost choking on the ale he drank. "What did she do exactly?"

Francis's cheeks reddened. "S-She blindfolded me..."

"Seriously?" His brother asked, rolling his eyes.

"That's not all!"

"Tell me more."

Francis narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "You don't happen to know where that journal has got to, do you?"

Bash's eyes darted away from his brother. "Not at all. Ever since the children found it, Kenna disposed of it."

"Sebastian..."

"I'm being honest!"

"You tell a lie."

"Well, be assured that Mary didn't use it," Bash said. "Now tell me what she did."

Francis sighed, covering his face before his hands moved to his cheeks. "She... left me _high and dry_."

"Dear God."

"What I said," Francis muttered. "She said she had forgiven me for the past two month's events and Lola is settling well with her new man friend so I believed that Mary and I would go back to normal and by normal, I mean have sex."

Bash snorted. "But she had other ideas?"

"You don't even know the half of it..." Francis groaned. "She said it was meant to be exciting and thrilling. We kissed and touched and she tied me up and blindfolded me, telling me that she was going to please me for carrying out her wishes regarding Lola. But then, she left and I was pulling and yanking for three hours until she returned, acting as if the devil hadn't smiled at all."

Bash started to laugh, slamming his hand on the table before drinking more of his drink and pouring them both full cups. "That is definitely something she learnt from Kenna."

"Your wife punishes you?"

"All the time," Bash replied, shrugging. "Even for the smallest of reasons. Leaving one boot out of my trunk, discarding my clothes on the floor even though _she_ put them there. Not making the fire hot enough and other silly reasons. I think she just craves the power she has over me. Huh."

"What happened to us?" Francis whined.

"Children, definitely," Bash said. "And marrying the most insane Scotswomen in the whole damn world. Too bad we can't complain to their fathers, they're both dead."

Francis sighed, letting out a smile. "Or their mothers."

"Hmm."

"No one to blame for their unfair ways."

"We do love them at the end of the day," Bash said proudly. "I don't know what I'd do without Kenna. I never knew that we'd end up like this. I disliked her _passionately_ you know?"

"Why?"

"I don't know, she was selfish, vain, hedonistic and I ought not to continue because her hearing is sharp," Bash said, lowering his voice. "She complained a lot during the earlier days of our marriage. Cried a lot. Laughed maniacally a lot. Cursed a lot. Threw a lot of things... God, she was beautifully tragic then."

Francis smiled. "Look at you, all lovesick."

"Says the man who didn't know his own wife was taking him for a fool. And it's even worse that you're a king. Does this stupidity fall on the second sons?"

"Bash!"

"You can't deny it," Bash said lightly. "Anyway, after Kenna and I made love for the first time and she was asleep, I saw bruises on her body."

Francis winced. "Father?"

"She never talked about them and I never asked. We wanted to put that behind us," Bash told him. "I wish I asked. We would have fallen in love sooner rather than later. What about Mary? What was she like before now?"

"You know..."

"I mean _before_," Bash said, a light blush on his cheeks.

"Oh," Francis mumbled. "Well, she said she was quiet, read a lot of books and well, tended to the children on the nunnery she was hidden at. That's how she's very good with children. She's a lot more defiant now. Stronger. Smarter. I value her."

"Good. Keep doing so otherwise, you'd end up like me, waiting for five hours every other week," Bash mumbled, making his brother laugh.

Francis shook his head. "And you called me the fool!"

...

That night, Francis nervously entered the bedchamber. He looked around suspiciously when he saw rose petals on the floor, leading up to the bed with candles lit all around and other romantical items.

He found his wife waiting patiently on their bed, a bright red lace nightdress on her body, hugging every curve tightly. He mentally cursed and rolled his eyes.

"Teasing me more? I thought I made up for everything."

Mary giggled. "No, I'm being serious now. Kinder."

Francis began to take off his clothes. "Are you?"

"Mhm," she hummed, tilting her head and watching him strip. "I'm sorry about last night."

"Where did you sleep?"

"With the boys. They had night terrors because of the terrible storm," she told him.

Francis smiled. "I'll check on them tomorrow."

"Read them a story whilst you're at it," she said. "They're awfully jealous that you're spending time with the girls. I've tried telling them that it's to prepare them for marriage but you know how little boys get."

Francis removed the last article of clothing from his body. "I do."

Mary beamed. "Come to me," she whispered and he walked over, getting onto the bed as her arms wound around his neck, her lips brushing over his lightly. "Hello."

"Hello to you too," Francis said, before gently pushing her away. "No tying me up, Your Majesty."

"As you wish, Your Majesty," she breathed out before kissing him deeply. "I will make it up to you. I promise no ropes."

Francis grinned against her lips. "Who said anything about no ropes?"

Mary's eyes widened. "No!"

"You're being unfair," her husband sang, flipping them so she was underneath him.

Out of nowhere, he had a long stretch of rope in his right hand and Mary furrowed her brows, trying to work how _when_ the hell he got that. Unsuccessfully fighting against him, he had her bounded up and got off the bed.

"I think the boys are calling for me now," he said.

"Francis Valois-"

"'Papa'? Yes, I can hear a faint 'papa'," Francis said, grabbing some clothes. "You know how children are. Very demanding. They get it from their parents."

"Francis!"

"My love, I might just read them _five_ stories. Oh, I might read one to Ana as well! And Xander! Oh, might even stop by for drinks with Leith," Francis continued. "Leith has been very busy lately, he needs a night off."

Mary let out a frustrated scream. "I will get my hands on you and I will-"

"Ask Bash if he wants to go for a midnight hunting trip? Oh, my love, you do give me the best ideas!" Francis said, letting out sputters of laughter through his lips as he put his clothes on. "My half-brother has the best eyesight in the dark. Might catch us some wild animals for supper tomorrow. You like rabbit don't you?"

"I hate you," Mary squeaked out, a smile threatening to break out. "Touché, you arse!"

Francis bowed low. "Excuse me, Your Grace. I have a whole night's worth of duties to perform, from reading stories to midnight hunting. I bid you, a good night."

He left the bedchamber, hearing Mary scream out in annoyance, cursing his name. He grinned, turning to the guards.

"She's not hurling abuse at you. I apologise for your eardrums in advance," he told them. "Please, feel free to not do anything at all and I will pay you both extra for your troubles."

"Yes, Your Majesty," the guards said, shaking their heads in amusement. _Never_ get between a king and his queen wife.

He began walking backwards. "She should fall asleep very soon. Her body's like a clock. See you soon, gentlemen."


	60. A Sword Fight With The Queen

**The war continues! And some foreshadowing for the special chapter 60! Enjoy!**

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* * *

It was a beautiful day, Bash laid on his back on the grass as his daughter braided flowers into his hair, his wife reading a story to their youngest son, their eldest son playing tag with a twist with John Philip. Bash sighed happily, his eyes closed and face content.

As much as he loved being the hero, he adored being the family man. The family man who woke beside his wife and kissed her bare, tanned shoulder before they made sweet love. The family man who chased his only daughter around at night, trying to wear her out for sleep as she was just like her spirited, never-ending mother who could keep going for weeks on her drug, happiness. The family man who play-fought with his eldest son with wooden swords, proud that his son was fast becoming like him for all the years he trained the boy and his efforts proved rewarding when he protected himself and his beloved cousin, Rose from their kidnappers. The family man who lifted his youngest son onto his shoulders as they played chicken in the lake with their dog, Willow and his nephews, James, Joseph and Peter.

Oh, Bash loved the peace-

_Clank!_

His eyes snapped open and his attention was taken to where his brother and Mary were in the middle of a coy sword fight. With real blades.

Gently manoeuvring his complaining daughter to the side, Bash got up and strolled his way over to the couple, hands in his pockets as he watched both of their forms. Then he realised that it wasn't swords, but fencing swords they were fighting with, with Mary tapping Francis's heart every so often.

"You embarrass me," Bash told his brother lightly. "Letting a woman beat you?"

"Do you want me to bring up Kenna?" Francis retorted, hitting Mary on her chest.

"Francis!" She squealed, eyes wide. "I can't believe you'd do that!"

Francis scoffed. "It's a battle, wife."

Mary glared at him and swung at his hip, narrowly missing him as he jumped back and touched her shoulder. "Francis!"

"Keep up, wife! Bothered you aren't winning anymore?" Francis smirked.

Bash coughed, laughter stifled in his lips and he turned to give his a wife a 'can you believe them?' look to which she responded with an amused shake of her head and a bite of her bottom lip. "I wonder what your children would think," he told the King and his Queen Wife.

"This. Doesn't. Involve. Them," Mary enunciated, touching Francis's breastbone with her sword. "Revenge for last night."

"Do I even want to know?"

"Oh," Mary said, eyes flashing with annoyance as she turned to him briefly. "Let's just say, he's lucky he isn't dead."

"That bad?"

Francis gave his brother a flying wink. "Midnight hunting was splendid, wasn't it?"

"You used me!"

"Get used to it, brother dearest," Francis replied teasingly.

Bash gaped. "I will _not_ be involved in this little battle between man and wife. Or king and queen. Or fool and fool!"

"Bash!" The couple stopped and cried out.

"Grown adults acting like spoilt children," Bash said, smirking. "Get over yourselves."

He turned back, lifted Anastasia into his arms and threw the couple a warning look as Kenna and the children laughed at Mary and Francis's expense, following after Bash to head back to the castle. Enough of the outside for now.

"Oh, right?!" Francis called after his brother. "Says the man with flowers in his hair! What are you? A girl?!"

Bash's hand moulded into a rude gesture and Francis gasped, giving his wife an incredulous look.

"How dare he...!"

"Yes," Mary agreed. "How dare he indeed!"

...

The next morning, Francis got ready for the day but he realised something he was missing. Well, quite a lot of it.

"Mary?" He asked, entering her dressing room. "Where are all of my trousers?"

Mary shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't know."

"Mary!" He cried out, heading to her shoe trunk to search but it was locked.

He attempted other places but he came up unsuccessful.

"Darling wife..."

"Darling husband," Mary replied in kind, humming as she sprayed perfume onto her luscious neck, craning it to get the scent everywhere. It sent him going crazy and he pushed away those lustful thoughts in order to find out where his missing clothing was.

"Please?" He begged, making her smirk and lift up some shears. His eyes went wide. "Please, tell me you didn't!"

In Anastasia de Poitiers' bedchamber a few doors down, Bash entered her room and his eyes brightened when they fell on her own. She beamed, getting up in her little pouffy dress to hug his legs.

He had other ideas, lifting her up in the air, making her giggle before catching her and setting her on his hip.

"Good morning, my sweetling."

"Good morning, Papa," she replied happily with another giggle. "Am I the centre of your world?"

Bash smiled warmly. "Yes," he said. "But don't let your mama know that, Ana."

"Will you and Mama ever have another daughter?"

"Why do you ask?" He retorted gently.

Anastasia shied into his neck. "I like being the only girl."

Bash laughed. "Well, it is up to God, my love. But we won't love you any less should we have another daughter."

She beamed, lifting her head to look into his eyes. "I love you, Papa."

"I love you too, my precious-"

A loud frustrated yell was heard and Bash excused himself, placing his daughter back on the ground with a firm promise to return and play dolls with her. He left the bedchamber, going to investigate where the cry came from.

He soon found it to be from the King and Queen's bedchambers and he entered the room, bursting into laughter when he saw his red-faced brother dressed only in a cotton shirt and his sister-in-law holding up a pair of shearing scissors and one pair of Francis's breeches.

"Do I even want to know?" Bash asked, going to close the doors before standing between the couple.

"Tell my wife to give me my trousers."

"Tell my _husband_ to get on his knees and _beg_ me for them."

Bash choked on air, seeing Mary's lips curl into a smirk from the corner of his eye. "You've definitely been spending too much time with my wife. Please, don't."

"Well?" Francis demanded, crossing his arms at his brother. "Tell her!"

Bash sighed heavily and turned to Mary, reaching out a hand for the only pair of trousers she had in the chambers. "Your Majesty, I beg on my brother's behalf."

Mary paused thoughtfully before saying, "No, thank you."

Bash rolled his eyes and turned to his brother. "Don't you have other pairs?"

"She cut them all up!"

"Mary!" Bash cried out, turning to her.

Mary shrugged. "He insulted me yesterday," she said with a pout.

Bash closed his eyes, questioning both of their sanity. Including his own. "This has gone on way too long. I hereby demand a truce between the both of you."

Mary started to laugh and chucked the trousers at Bash's face before placing the scissors down. "Very well," she said, holding out a hand to her husband who was now busy pulling up his trousers with a glare her way. "Truce. I'll even get the tailor to remake your trousers."

"That's not enough," Francis grumbled out, grabbing his doublet and tunic.

"What is it you desire more?" Mary asked coyly.

Francis turned to his brother. "That would be all," the King said, a blush taking over his cheeks.

Bash shook his head in disbelief. "If it has something to do with sex, then you have lost the plot. That is how _this_ began!"

"Well, I do love my wife," Francis said, his eyes warming when they landed on Mary who smiled warmly back. "Even if she's a psychopath."

Mary gasped and began hitting him, making Bash leave with his head shaking in incredulity.

...

"This is getting ridiculous," Anne told her parents over supper that evening. "Both of you are acting like children. Sex driven and vengeful!"

It was only the couple, their daughters and their sons (including John) present, and the boys' eyes widened in curiosity to which Mary sent them a warm glare to return to their meals. That sent all four wolfing down soup into their mouths.

"What do you mean, dear?" Francis asked her, sharing a wary glance with Mary.

Anne smiled fakely. "I paid your guards to find out why you keep on coming to the boys' bedchambers in the middle of the night."

Rose smirked. "You've just taught us that sex is a powerful weapon."

"You," Francis began, his ringed finger pointing at both girls. "Are both forbidden to have sex until you're married." He turned to John whose eyes widened in expectancy. "Same goes for you too!" He stuffed some chicken into his mouth, chewed it quickly and swallowed it. "Enough on the matter, your mother and I are just... experimenting."

Mary used her wine cup to disguise her smile. That was one way of putting it. Sexual frustration laced with bondage and other sexual fantasies... After their truce this morning and Bash had left, they'd ended up in bed and Mary's eyes flickered over to Francis's neck that was laced with red-purple bruises.

She, herself, winced subtly as she felt the scratches on her back. It had felt pleasurable and now they stung horribly and he was apologetic after, not before she took him and sought revenge by scratching underneath his left ear in euphoria. Animals, they had been like. Desperate, mewling animals.

"Experimenting, you say?" Rose asked them, sipping her water. "Huh. I'll ask Auntie Kenna-"

"Don't. You. Dare," her mother said, making the girls smile knowingly. "As your father said, enough on the matter otherwise you are both to be sent to your chambers until we see fit to release you."

Anne snorted. "You wouldn't dare-"

"Two weeks!" Francis said, turning to her.

Anne gasped.

"Three."

She glared at him.

"Four."

"I'm sorry!" She cried out, crossing her arms in frustration.

Rose bit back a smile and Francis caught it.

"You can join her as well."

"Papa!"

"Make that five weeks for both of you."

He shared a grin with his wife as their daughters sulked, bemoaning their unfair parents. It wouldn't last five weeks as their precious girls could probably break their hearts with their sadness and innocent doe eyes. But for now, their strictness was a nice welcome in the world of parenting. Boundaries as their mothers would tell them, instilling them to do the same with their own children.

Boundaries.

Three months after that day, with the trousers situation and seething princesses, Mary entered hers and Francis's bedchambers where he laid leisurely in their bed, ready to sleep with the love of his life.

She giggled, noting his lack of clothes but before she let him take her and fill her perfectly and complete, she sat on the bed and brought his hands to her stomach.

"Francis, we're with child again," she whispered, seeing his eyes water and his mouth open in shock.

This time, his tears were of joy and not pain and grief.

Francis's lips met her own and his hands got to work, undoing her laces. She stopped his hands and got up, standing in front of him as she began to strip, watching as his blue eyes darkened and lowered to her stomach where their unborn child was inside. He really prayed that they'd see this one, alive, kicking, healthy.

Mary took out the comb that held her hair together and placed it onto her vanity before returning naked to straddle her husband's hips as she leaned down to meet his lips in a breathy, wet kiss.

His hand reached between them and she gasped when he touched exactly where she wanted him to. No permission needed, he just knew. He knew her mind, her soul, her body.

"No more fighting," he whispered breathily, which made her giggle.

"We haven't fought in months," she stated.

Francis smiled anyway. "A new start."

"Can we keep some things?"

"Like...?"

"The bondage?" She asked sultrily, nipping at his ear as she ground into his hand. She didn't know who was more aroused, her or him and he wasn't even being touched.

"I love it when you react like this for me," she said, peppering kisses all over his neck.

Francis began to rub against her, feeling her breath become sharp against his neck. "And I love how you react like that for me."

She brought her face to meet his and her darkened eyes met his own before he leaned up to kiss her deeply.

"I want you inside me, right now," she demanded softly.

Francis leant his forehead against hers. "As you wish, my Queen," he replied quietly before standing up with her legs wrapped around his hips and turning, placing her onto the bed where he removed his fingers in favour for himself.

Mary let out a moan, her eyes closing and a smile taking over her face. It was wide, happy, pleasured, content, satisfied-

"Oh, Francis," she said, his name repetitive on her lips with every thrust and twitch, the pressure twisting and leaping and catching on.

Francis's lips met her ear. "I love you so goddamn much."

Mary smiled, placing a chaste kiss on his lips. "And I love you so goddamn much too-" Her eyes fluttered closed and she screamed out his name, panting heavily against the bed as sweat dampened her forehead.

He came not too long after and rolled off her, onto his back. "God, hearing you scream my name sets me off."

Mary giggled, blushing furiously. "Well, I guess I don't have to ask you how happy you are to be a father for the seventh time."

Francis groaned, shielding his face. "We turn thirty-one next year and we have seven children?"

"_You_ have seven children," his wife teased him. "I did not push or will not have pushed seven children out of me!"

"Then, now you can't complain when I tell you that we might as well reach ten," he replied coyly.

Mary scoffed, laughing. "Well, I always said we'll see."

"Ready for round two?"

"Only if it involves rope."

"Oh, Mary Stuart, you will be the death of me."

Once, that would have set her back with tears and fear, but now she only grinned and got on top of him, reaching behind her to grab the rope from the bedside drawer.

"As I am the pregnant one, I can do _whatever_ I want with you," she told him, starting to tie his hands together.

Francis shrugged, his muscles flexing ever so slightly which almost set her off just then with pleasure. He smirked. "Go ahead. Sometimes kings submit to their queens."

"You won't only submit," Mary mumbled, running her fingers down his chest. "You'll think I'm a goddess and worship me. After God, of course."

"Damn my Catholic soul," Francis murmured as his wife got to work.


	61. An Ageless Queen

**We're in March now (hopefully I've got that right, if not, oh well hehe). I've lost conception of time, haha. I'd imagine Mary and Kenna turning 31 in January around James' 7th birthday, Francis's birthday in February where Ana turns 7, and Lawrence (Claude's son) turning six. We're nearing Bash's 34th birthday, the end of March (by which John would have turned 14 by then).**

**Want to focus on LAF a little bit so this story may be delayed at times, that and uni days go from 9 AM to 6 PM so they drain the life out of me, haha. I hope you are all enjoying both stories!**

**Replies to reviews:**

**BlerBlerBler [chapter 60]: Yep, haha!**

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**Guest (1) [chapter 60]: Indeed it is! They will be toned down a little as more family time is coming up but parents do need some time to themselves ;) Yeah, now that Anne and Rose know all about sex, they're more aware of mummy and daddy time! Baby's coming in September (in the story)! We will finally have an Autumn baby after all of the Winter/Spring/Summer babies. I'm so glad!**

****FeliLuna13 [chapter 60]: Thanks so much! And you will just have to wait and see ;) Here's the next chapter, we won't see baby number 6/7 for a while yet as Frary need to show TLC to their current children. Oh, thanks so much! I love writing it, it's my favourite Frary story to right. I'm great with writing them in the normal universe, and terrible when in terms of modern AU so I'm glad you love it! Your English is perfect and understandable!****

* * *

"God, no."

Mary nodded at her eldest. "Annie, you're going to have another-"

"Don't say it again. Doesn't make this any easier," Anne said, gagging. "I give up."

Mary chuckled, cupping her beloved girl's cheeks. "Darling, you and your siblings mean the world to your father and me. No matter how many children we have, each and every one of you holds a piece of our hearts. We'd do anything for you, my sweet. I'm sorry but-"

"Don't be," Anne said softly. "I'm happy for you both."

Mary sighed in relief. "We told your sister, she was going to town with Auntie Kenna and Ana."

"Right," Anne said, kissing her mother's cheek. "Make sure it's a girl. There are too many boys in the family for my liking."

Mary gasped but grinned. "Don't say that, darling. We need the sons."

"If we really do..." Anne trailed off teasingly. "Now, go and let the rest of the castle know. It would be a relief to see the vein disappear from Papa's forehead every time the subject of more children comes up. As if he's dying to tell the whole world and beyond that, his wife is having his seventh child. Is he really that fertile in his old age?"

Mary smacked her daughter lightly. "Your father and I are _not_ old, you..." She giggled. "We're thirty-one. Don't make us out to be so middle-aged! I'll have you know, that is still quite young."

"Of course," Anne drawled out as her mother stood. "See you soon, Mama."

"See you soon," Mary replied. "Don't forget your lute lessons."

The girl rolled her eyes, falling back onto her bed with a dramatic sigh. "How could I?"

...

Francis handed John some cloth to wipe the wine from his lips. "Don't tell your mothers."

"I won't," he promised with a grin. Lola and Mary were very protective of their children, not wanting any to be grown beyond their time.

Francis leaned back on his hands, watching as Bash and Robin tried to catch some fish in their makeshift nets. They were successful and every so often, the young Earl will rush over to their crate box and trap a jumping fish inside.

"John..."

"Yes, Father?"

Francis turned to him. "Mary and I are expecting another child."

John's eyes fell a little until he glanced over at where his uncle was, splashing water at Robin who shrieked but laughed and returned the gesture. John then turned back to his father with a small smile.

"If Uncle Bash survived having _all_ of your siblings, I can survive with having six," he said firmly.

Francis beamed, pressing a kiss onto the boy's head. "I do love you, John Philip. It's just hard..."

"I understand. You don't have to explain," John told him. "I know what you did for me."

"What did I do?"

"You had Uncle Bash kill the man who hurt me," John replied. "It wasn't necessary, but thank you."

Francis sighed heavily. He didn't want his children to think he was reliant on spilling blood. "It was a bad idea."

"Do you regret it?"

"No. Never. My child was hurt and I had to hurt the person who caused him pain," Francis said to him, his jaw clenching. "I'm sorry."

John smiled wryly. "No, don't be, Father. It shows you _do_ care about me. The other day, Anne asked _me_ for a dance. In front of all those nobles and she asked her bastard brother for a dance."

Francis smiled proudly at the idea of his defiant daughter ignoring all those looks and stares in order to make her brother smile. "I remember," he said. "Let's go and help them, shall we? The box is starting to leap everywhere."

...

That evening, Bash studied himself in the mirror.

"Am I getting... _fat?_"

"What are you on about?" Kenna asked, putting her earrings on.

"Answer the question."

"Give me context."

Bash rolled his eyes. "I've been enjoying retirement for five years or so now and I've let myself go. I have, haven't I?"

Kenna gave him a look, crossing her arms. "Do you really think someone as beautiful as me would sleep beside a fat man?"

"Kenna!"

"You're lucky you're handsome and gorgeous and the thought of your eyes on me right now makes me-"

"Are you both ready for supper?" Robin asked, waltzing into their bedchambers without knocking.

"Robert," Bash said sharply, picking up a pillow from the chaise to hide a certain something.

Robin frowned. "Father, have you gained some weight?"

"Get out!"

The boy laughed, leaving the chambers and closing the door behind him.

Bash whined, taking a seat on the bed. "In the morning, I'll ask Francis for a spar. Or perhaps Leith. I will get back into exercise."

"Don't mind Ro-"

"Am I getting old?"

"Old?"

"Kenna, I turn thirty-_four_ at the end of the month. I'm old!"

"If you were old," his wife began, taking a seat beside him. "I'd be wedded to a younger man by now."

"What?!"

"I'm joking!" She quickly said, laughing when she saw the fear and jealousy of a non-existent man in his eyes. "We're growing old together. But we're not old right now. We're very young and ageless."

Bash sighed. "You're sweet-talking me. I'm getting old."

"For Christ's sake-"

"Perhaps I should have spent more time indoors than outdoors. It ages a man, you know?"

Kenna scoffed, rolling her eyes. "You are ridiculous, my love."

Bash laid his head on her lap, crossing his arms. "I don't want to go to supper."

"What's brought all of this on?"

"I overheard Francis telling John that he and Mary are expecting again."

Kenna didn't react. "Mary told me..."

Bash nodded. "Thought as much."

"Well?"

"Francis is barely just turned thirty-one and he has _seven_ children. Here I am, almost midway to forty with three children and a back that hurts all the time," he bemoaned.

Kenna gaped. "_That's_ why I have been on top lately."

"Don't be too happy. I've got some remedies from Nostradamus, I should be fighting fit-"

"Like my good little horsey?"

"Kenna!"

"What?" She giggled. "My big, old stallion."

"You called me 'old'," he cried out, sitting up to glare at her. "So I _am_ old?!"

Kenna let out a scream. "Oh, you're so unbearable!" She told him, getting up and leaving their chambers.

Bash slumped back onto the bed.

...

"Cancel the party," Kenna told Francis as she took a seat, sending her daughter a bright smile.

Francis frowned. "Why?"

"Your brother doesn't want to age apparently," she told him. "Said something about a new addition to the family making him rethink his life."

Francis began to laugh, taking a sip from his wine. "Mid-life crisis," he stated. "He'll get over it."

"After the fourteenth horse that he'll buy under our name?" Kenna asked rhetorically. Not that she'd ever let him buy that many on her watch.

Mary giggled from her seat. "Just tell him that it's fine to age. That or you'll never give him what he wants if he keeps complaining."

Kenna understood what her friend and cousin meant. "He's a remarkable creature, so demanding yet so childish at the same time." She turned to the eldest child they'd made from their love. "Don't end up like your father. Your wife will be frustrated with your incapability to talk and penance to suffer from your ridiculous riddles and questions."

"Yes, Mother," Robin said, grinning.

Eventually, the man himself entered the dining room and took a seat between Francis and Kenna, picking up some bread before thinking better of it.

"I'll just have the carrot and leek soup," he mumbled.

Kenna scoffed, lifting a large quail from her plate and placing it on his. "If you don't eat, you'll be skin and bones and _then_ I won't sleep with you!" She said into his ear.

He began to eat the quail.

Satisfied, Kenna shrugged when she saw faces staring at her. "What? I didn't sign up for four children!" She nudged Bash's shoulder. "Stop looking so sullen and acting like a child."

Mary pursed her lips in thought. Her birthday celebrations had gone really well, but now thinking about Bash's blue day, she figured that maybe ageing was scary to think about.

Not having as much fertility or stamina as before. Not looking as beautiful and young as before. Not-

"My beautiful queen," Francis whispered, pressing a kiss onto the back of her hand.

Mary grinned. Maybe ageing with the love of your life kept things young.

She turned to Bash and said, "Be happy your wife's a spirited hare. That's sure to make you feel young."

The adults choked on their food or drink as the children stared at her in confusion.

"Nevermind, children. Eat up now," she told them, giggling when Francis sent her a coy smirk.

...

Mary tutted, undoing her laces. "God, my dresses are already starting to feel snug," she told Kenna.

Kenna smirked. "Need help?"

"Please," Mary said as her friend stood to help her reach the laces she couldn't. "Feels like old times."

Kenna beamed. "Bash and I have been talking about that. We stayed beyond Christmas and New Year's, it's time to return to Avon. The children miss their school."

"We can have them privately tutored, you know?" Mary asked, sighing in relief as her dress began to fall, one by one.

Kenna shrugged a little. "The normalcy is kind to us," she said.

"Is something wrong?"

"Not at all-"

"Kenna."

Kenna sighed, standing back to let Mary do the rest for herself. "I never said but last Christmas, Bash and I were grieving."

Mary turned to her in surprise. "A relative?"

"No," Kenna quickly said. "Well, yes but not one of my siblings or anything. O-Our fourth or what would have been our fourth child."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Mary said sadly. "And here I am, expecting my sixth child."

Kenna watched as the queen placed a hand on her small bump. "We're not upset," Kenna said, smiling fondly. "We're really happy, actually and Avon's flourishing. France is flourishing. I'm just sad that we have a home and it's not here with you, Francis and the children."

"It can be-"

"As girls, we were taught to rely on our husbands and no one else. We got too dependent on each other that when we were married, we expected the bond to be stronger as our husbands were brothers. But all along, we didn't need each other as much as we did fifteen years ago."

Mary pouted. "But we love having you here. I love talking to you, Lola gets on my nerves at times but she minds her own and keeps away mostly. Greer's not here so, I only have you."

Kenna began to laugh softly. "You have my son as your husband's ward, yet you still want the main attraction?"

"I do," Mary said, giggling.

"Well, unless you can build a school here, it would be best if Bash and I-"

"Done," Mary said. "Now the children can spend more time with their cousins and you, Bash, Francis and I can too."

Kenna gasped, a smile taking over her face. "You are one demanding queen!"

"You are my subject, I order you to remain by my side for all of eternity," Mary said, giggles leaving her lips.

"And if I object?"

"I'll lock you and your husband in your bedchambers," Mary said, crossing her arms.

"Not a bad idea actually," Kenna said, making Mary choke.

Mary rolled her eyes playfully. "On serious terms, I will support you both. No matter your decision, Duchess."

Kenna bowed her head. "Thank you, Your Majesty. It really has been an honour to serve you."

Mary nodded, tears springing to her eyes. "Damn, I did not miss the hysterics."

"Come here," Kenna said, chuckling as she hugged Mary tightly.

"See you in another five years?"

"Yes," Kenna breathed out, laughing softly. "But before then, we must celebrate my husband getting older."

Mary burst into laughter, tightening her grip onto Kenna as tears streamed down her cheeks.

...

The day after Bash's party, Mary and Francis waved the couple and their two youngest out of the gates. Mary could see Kenna bury her face into Bash's shoulder, tears in her dear cousin's eyes.

She couldn't be selfish, she kept reminding herself. They had their own lives, they couldn't only live to serve her and Francis. These people were _family_, with children and business and lives of their own.

She took a sharp intake of breath when the carriage was no longer in view and turned to Robin who turned away from her. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," he mumbled.

"You'll see them soon enough."

Robin sighed. "I know," he replied, heading back inside behind Francis.

Mary stayed outside a little longer, Lola joining her side. "When are you leaving for John's barony?"

Lola smiled sadly. "Tomorrow."

Mary nodded. Her determination not to let anyone see her crumble inside meant that she kept her emotions at bay, remaining stone-cold in her exterior. "Very well."

"Look after John for me."

"I always do," Mary said firmly.

She walked back into the castle and headed to hers and Francis's bedchambers where she laid on the bed and started to cry. She wished that she wasn't ending up like Catherine, no friends with only her children and spouse to rely on.

"Mary?"

"Am I too needy, Francis?" She asked her husband.

Francis laid down beside her, turning on his side to face her as his hand laid on her hip. "You've known these women most of your whole life as I have with Bash. Sometimes, adulthood means that we must adapt and lose the things we're comfortable with."

Mary sniffled. "I wish we were children again. Or innocent teenagers, mixed up-"

"In love and drama?"

She giggled. "Yes... I guess. Definitely no love triangles between brothers, too stressful."

Francis chuckled, pressing a kiss on her cheek. "We'll be fine, Mary. We have each other and our children."

She brought his hand to her stomach. "Yes, and that is all we need."

"If you really miss them, we can visit during the Summer," Francis promised her.

"That will be nice although I might be a bloated whale by then," Mary replied. "Let's think positively."

Francis sat up. "Like what?"

Mary grinned. "I overheard the older children talking about a surprise."

"For who?" Francis asked with a small smile.

"The twins. Joseph and Peter are almost six already," Mary said with a slight whine of disbelief. "I understand how Bash feels now!"

Francis laughed, pressing a kiss on her forehead. "We are _not_ old!"

"Maybe we are..." Mary mumbled before she was attacked with kisses, laughter erupting from her lips. "Alright, alright!"

Francis got on top of her and grinned, pressing a kiss down on her nose. "You are ageless, my angel," he whispered, his blue eyes sparkling as she became flushed.

"Am I really?"

"You are," he breathed out. "And I am the luckiest man on Earth because of you."

Mary brought him down for a kiss.


	62. A Home With The Queen

****So, we're going to have a lot of family-centric chapters coming up following events in this chapter :).  
****

* * *

With one sibling having left for home, one fled theirs and ended up arriving in French Court in the late hours of the day, making the King and Queen leave their chambers less than royally dressed. The moon out and their steps hurried to the throne hall, they saw a woman hunched over on the ground, her arms wrapped tightly around two teenage girls.

Francis got on his knees and brought them into his arms, his eyes meeting Leith's. "Secure the castle and fetch me some handmaidens."

The woman raised her eyes to meet his blue ones. "Francis," she croaked out before sobs escaped her lips.

"Leeza," Francis whispered.

A while later, Leeza's daughters, Isabella and Catherine, had been taken away to rest from their stressful travels as their mother sat and accepted food and drink from her brother and sister-in-law in gratitude.

"I've fallen out of favour with Philip," she admitted sadly. "Ten years without another child, a _son_..." She almost spat the word out. "His mistress threatened to have my girls and me slaughtered."

"You are protected here," Mary said, rubbing her shoulder. "So are the girls-"

"No, not them," Leeza mumbled. "If there is one person you trust with your children's lives, it's..."

"Bash," Francis finished for her. "He has left, Leeza. He and Kenna returned-"

"My daughters will be illegitimate soon," Leeza cut her brother off. "He sets to remarry, try again for a male heir. Bella is fourteen, Kitty only thirteen. They'll be cast aside when Philip returns from the Vatican. If you'd kindly have the Duchess take my daughters on as wards, I'll be most grateful."

Francis sighed. "I'll send a letter as soon as possible," he told her. "Avon is heavily protected." Following past events. "They'll be safe, able to live normal lives without fear of their father's wrath. As for you, Philip risks war if he tries anything to fall out of favour with me through you."

Leeza nodded warily. "Cousin Cosimo is in your pocket now?"

"Italy will support _me_ should needs be," Francis affirmed. "Elizabeth in England will help me command my armies there and in Scotland, our sister-in-law's family act as my regents under Mary's guidance."

"Thank you, Francis," Leeza told him gratefully. "And you Mary. I knew we'd be safe the minute you became king."

Francis hugged her tightly. "Welcome, home Leeza. You'll always have a home with us."

...

Word reached Avon a week later and a week after that, Bash returned to Court to personally escort his nieces to his estate. Leeza greeted him cordially and he gave her a warm smile to which she was barely able to return before bursting into sobs. Unsure of what to do, he nervously patted her back and promised her that he'd take care of Bella and Kitty, making her laugh by saying her pet names for her precious daughters were awful.

It was their first time, his and Francis's, meeting Bella and Kitty. Francis had briefly held them as they sobbed after arriving in tattered clothing and dirtied before they disappeared during the week to be primmed and proper up by Mary, Anne and Rose.

They got on swimmingly with John and Robin as well, the younger boys taking a liking to them too.

"You will like Avon," Robin promised them. "My father will protect you. There are a school, a chapel and a lake we frequent. We also have multiple horses. If you ask kindly, my father will buy one for you each."

"Thank you," Kitty had mumbled.

Bella nodded firmly. "Yes, thank you, Cousin Robert."

Robin chuckled, his eyes twinkling. "_Robin_, please."

That had set down part of the girl's stone-cold wall around her heart. He'd been dragged off by John, wanting to spar before lessons and Rose and Anne had gifted the girls some of their jewellery.

"It brings out your eyes," Rose told Bella, brushing a finger near the girl's eye gently. "So beautiful."

Leeza leant into Francis's side so her voice was low, "Your girls are so sweet."

"They get that from their mother," he replied proudly.

She turned to Bash as well, "Your son has such a cheeky sense around him. Will he bed girls soon?"

"Leeza!"

"What?" She asked innocently. "His father was such a rebel back in the day."

Bash blushed, deciding that he really must instil in his son the importance of sex _after_ marriage. "Well, God's punishment is taken heavily."

Leeza chuckled, sniffling before hugging him. "Protect them with your life."

"I always will," he swore to her before gesturing for the girls to follow him into their carriage.

Before he got onto his horse, he found Robin running up to him and he pressed a long kiss on the boy's head, brushing his brown hair away from his eyes.

"Your mother, sister and brother miss you," he whispered.

Robin smiled sadly. "I miss them too. Let them know."

"I will," Bash promised, going over to his horse. "Behave, Robert Francis. I love you, my boy."

Robin scowled at the use of his full name. "I always do, and I might love you too, Father," he replied cheekily before waving his father with a salute and going back to John, lifting up his sword.

Bash chuckled to himself and got onto his horse, turning to see Leeza's face tight and heartbroken. He understood her reasonings perfectly. Although it would be impossible for her to visit her daughters so soon, there was always a place at Avon for her if she grew restless in her new position as Mary's new head lady-in-waiting. She was a Valois princess, sister to the King of France after all.

He tutted, turning back around. He ought to invite Claude and Lawrence to France. Perhaps a relationship with Leith will be fruitful for the woman now the man had risen high. That meant she could house her son in her home or Avon should she wish to strengthen her friendship with Kenna after everything that transpired between them.

For now, they had to make sure relations were settled and tensions cooled.

...

Francis showed the letter to his sister. "It's official. You are a Valois once again, your daughters claim our name after my persistence. Philip has promised to keep the girls in his line of succession until otherwise, he stressed that you remained so you could talk it out."

"After his mistress almost slit my throat?" She snapped. "Dear brother, over my dead body!"

Mary sighed, resting a hand on her small bump. "Anna of Austria is his new intended."

"Good," Leeza spat. "She's been batting her damned eyelids at him for years! That will show his whore."

Mary was grateful that Leeza was keeping civil about this and not demanding Francis to pull all their forces together to destroy Portugal and Spain. The man had outlived Mary's cousin, Mary Tudor! His need for wives every so often was no surprise for Leeza, Francis or Mary.

"Very well, everything is settled, no one will speak on the matter," Francis said. "He is most likely going to get his son from Anna so whatever happens, Bella and Kitty are safe."

"That is all that is important," Leeza whispered. "When news of a son has been declared, I will visit them or they can come here."

Francis nodded. "I've sent for Mother."

"Francis-"

"She knew already from the grapevine," he said. "Quite literally as well. She wishes to meet her granddaughters."

Leeza frowned and sighed. "Very well. Are you in favour?"

That was directed at Mary who smiled softly.

"We will see," she said lightly. "We have our days, Catherine and I."

"Well, I'd like to hear what she thinks of the daughter who _abandoned_ her," Leeza said teasingly but there was fear laced in her words. Did she truly believe her mother would hate her? "Fetch for Claude. Scotland she's in, right?"

"Hmm," Mary hummed. "Perhaps a family gathering. Away from Court and walls that listen."

Francis nodded. "I'll have a letter sent to Kenna." He smiled coyly at his wife. "I see your game."

"Keep your enemies closer, but don't lose sight of your friends," Mary replied. "You need all the ones you can trust."

Francis gave her an even wider smile. "During all of this with Leeza's situation, I managed to have Castleroy's name cleared. Mary, Greer is coming-"

"Home."


	63. An Uncertain Queen

**Replies to reviews:**

**Sav.129 [chapter 62]: Indeed!**

**elder441 [chapter 62]: Yes, with his siblings by his side we can see a different Francis and Mary. Not just as monarchs or parents, but as adults who can reminisce about their childhood as they look at the next generation that they've made. And the children quickly taking their older cousins into their friendship group as well. Makes me proud, haha.**

**FeliLuna13 [chapter 62]: Thanks, it really was! And yes, indeed! Francis has, Leeza (former QOS), Margaret (wife of a distant relative of the Navarres' in my story), Charles and Henri (who are married now), Bash (DOA and former K'sD), Claude (single mother of one and in Scotland) and that's it. So six siblings as it would go along the lines of the show. **

**A bit of drama! Enjoy!**

* * *

Kenna let out a soft whimper, exposing her neck even more for her husband to indulge in her beauty. She missed him, his trip to retrieve his nieces brief but felt like forever until he rode in, high and mighty.

"Bash..."

"Kenna," her husband replied in kind as their lips met in perfect sync.

Just before they could get further, a knock on their door stopped them and Bash groaned against Kenna's skin, getting out from under the covers and slipping on a robe.

He answered the door with an impatient, "Yes, what is it?"

He looked down.

"Catherine," he said, clearing his throat. "Do you require anything, my dear?"

Kitty blinked in uncertainty. "I-I can't quite get to sleep, My Lord," she mumbled, looking down at her covered feet. "It's the first time we've been away from Mother and..."

Bash knelt down and took her hands in his. "I know. It's scary and horrible and you feel like you're all alone in the world," he said, cupping her cheek. "But I promise you, you and Isabella are safe here. Your mother will come for you soon."

"My father isn't a bad man," Kitty told him. "He just... He's good to us and treats us well. I-I miss him."

"I'm sorry," Bash said sincerely. "But now that your father's taken on a new wife, you are pushed down the line of importance to him. He needs to secure Spain so he doesn't look weak. Unfortunately, two daughters as heirs were weak and your lives were more threatened then than now. Avon may not be home but you are welcome and safe, and my wife and I will ensure that your happiness is put first. I promised your mother."

Kitty nodded shakily. "I'm sorry to have disturbed you, My Lord-"

"Catherine, I'm your uncle," Bash said gently. "My wife, your aunt. My children, your cousins. We're family, lose the formalities, I ask you. Whatever you need, you tell a servant or handmaiden or guard and they will answer to you. This is your home."

"I prefer 'Kitty'," Catherine finally told him. "I believe my grandmother's name is too formal for my liking."

Bash chuckled, squeezing her hand. "Do you want to join my wife for some tea?"

"This late?"

"Chamomile settles the mind," Bash told her. "You will sleep better with it."

Kitty nodded. "I'll fetch Bella. Thank you!"

He accepted her tight hug and smiled, rubbing her back before letting her go and hurry down the hall to find her sister's bedchamber. He stood, returning to his bedchamber to see his wife smile proudly at him.

"I'm sorry," he said, heading to her.

"We have the rest of the night to make love," she told him, getting herself ready with her robe as she rose from the bed. "And our lives. What's one night settling two terrified girls in their new home?"

Bash kissed her softly, brushing her hair from her eyes. "You're perfect."

"I know I am."

"I see your modesty hasn't left you," he replied, dropping a hand to her back.

"That hand better keep on going down," she said sultrily.

Bash smirked, moving his hand even lower. To her bottom. "Like this?"

"Almost there," she whispered with a grin. "Just got to move it front and centre."

"We have enough time for that _after_ you entertain our nieces," he whispered into her ear.

Kenna giggled and waltzed out of his arms, heading to the doors. "Keep that bed warm and _don't you dare fall asleep_."

...

Mary smiled softly when she saw the carriage enter through into the courtyard. She was standing in the middle of Rose and Anne, eager for them to see Greer again.

"Every time I see you, you're-"

"Greer," Mary quickly said, hugging the now blonde again friend tightly. "We've not spread the word," she said lowly.

Greer nodded knowingly. "You're more beautiful," Greer finally finished, stepping back. "I am jealous. Here I am, ageing like a tree and you're youthful and beautiful."

Mary giggled. "Anne, Rose, your Aunt Greer."

Greer curtseyed to both girls but was attacked with hugs from them instead. She laughed, kissing their foreheads before Aloysius came with their children eager to curtsey or bow to the queen and princesses.

"Children! Look how much you've grown," Mary said. "And, dear God, is that your youngest?"

Greer nodded, the nanny who held a one-month-old coming forward. "Your Majesty, meet Mary."

Mary beamed happily, reaching out to carry the child in her arms. "Hello, Young Mary. She's beautiful," she whispered, turning to the couple. "Welcome home, Lord and Lady Castleroy. You were missed."

They met Francis inside, sending Robin off on an errand with John as he spoke to a few guards and Leith about securing the castle. His face became warm when he saw Mary leading the Castleroys with the baby in her arms and he patted Leith's back before excusing himself for them to carry out their duties.

"Your Majesty," Lord Castleroy said, bowing low as Greer curtseyed.

"Enough of that," Francis said, hugging the man and then Greer. "Welcome home." He turned to Mary and took the baby from her arms. "Let's see if my memory serves me well when it comes to the children's names."

They laughed and Francis babbled to Mary, making the Queen Mary smile with a sparkle in her eyes. Children always did bring out the best in her husband, his attachment and adoration for the future masters of the world beautiful to observe. He pointed around, showing baby Mary different parts of the throne hall as he carried a conversation with the Castleroys as Mary tended to the rest of the children with Rose and Anne.

"I left before the twins were born," Greer said to Francis. "And now, I'll be here for your sixth child's arrival."

"We're happy to have you here," Francis replied, looking over to beam at his wife playing a hand game with the girls. "Mary's been feeling... low. It doesn't help that Bash retired to Avon with the family."

"I saw Robin. Was that him?" Castleroy asked.

"It was," Francis said, grinning. "He's my ward."

"He's grown so much!" Greer cried out.

Francis chuckled. "Wait until you meet their youngest children. We will set for Avon when Claude arrives with her son."

Greer beamed happily. "I can't wait."

Mary turned over to them, calling out, "Neither can I!"

...

Bash woke up to the sound of persistent knocking a month later. He looked down and saw his wife still sleeping, untangling his body from her bare one before grabbing some clothes to look presentable enough to answer the door.

"What is it?" He asked, eyeing his head guard warily.

"We're surrounded, My Lord," the guard said. "Foreigners. Spaniards."

Bash set his jaw, more alert. "Call upon the farmers and the spies. We've got an unexpected visitor."

"Yes, My Lord," the guard said, leaving.

Bash closed the door and saw his wife rubbing sleep from her eyes. "Get dressed and take the children to the middle chambers."

Kenna became more alert and she nodded, slipping out of their bed to retrieve a modest dress, quickly tying up her corset as she decided against a chemise. "What is happening, Bash?" She asked as she ran her hands through her hair and checked herself in the mirror.

"The Spanish Army have us surrounded," Bash said bitterly. "So much for peace."

"Bash, what do we do?"

"Stay put with the children. Keep them away from windows in the case of spies. The middle chambers have none, so if Xander really must run around, let him do so in there."

Kenna nodded and watched as he properly got dressed, his hands quickly working on ties and buckles. "Will you have your sword?"

"No bloodshed will be spilt," her husband said firmly. "I aim to peacefully sort this out. Send them on their way. Divert their attention from the chateau."

"Very well. Be safe."

"I always am," was her husband's reply before he brushed a kiss over her lips and left.

...

"Open the gates!"

The gates drew upwards and Bash steadied his horse as the gates went up and revealed King Philip of Spain on his horse a few good yards away from him. Bash kept his composure, not fazed by the number of guards behind the king.

"Your Majesty," he said cordially. "To what do I owe the pleasure for your visit?"

"I have reason to believe my beloved daughters are under your care," the king said.

Bash tilted his head upwards a little, his horse becoming restless. "Your sources were incorrect. They are with their mother, under the care of their King Uncle."

"Not the bastard one?" Philippe snapped.

"My half-sister and I are not on friendly terms," Bash replied easily. "Why would she trust me or my wife with her daughters' lives?"

"So the age-old stories she told me about her childhood were false? About the brother who'd lift her onto his back and chase the then-Dauphin-"

"Children grow into adults and adults grow stone-cold," Bash cut him off without a second thought. "Childish dreams, adult realities."

Philippe glared at Bash. "Give me my princesses, Duke de Poitiers."

"Your new wife is barren, is she?" Bash tried.

"Not at all. She is with child as we speak," Philippe replied. "She wishes to acquaint herself with her stepdaughters."

Bash tilted his head slightly. "Well, you will have to speak to their mother and King Francis about that." He began to lead his horse away. "If you would kindly depart from my lands now."

"Duke de Poitiers."

Bash stopped and turned his horse around. "Yes, Your Majesty?"

"I can protect my daughters from any threat that comes upon them," Philip told him. "I've lost one son to madness, I can't lose my daughters. Appeal to your own heart. The love you have for your only daughter. Would you want her to be removed from your side without any knowledge to how she was taken?"

Bash furrowed his brows. Anastasia was his life. He loved Robin and Xander, but he couldn't deny the love he had for his only daughter. Her mother's image with his green eyes, her laughter and joy whenever he was in her line of sight. The way her small hands worked to pretty him up much to his reluctance but acceptance that spending time with her was all that counted...

"I apologise that you're hurting," Bash began. "I truly can't help you. Perhaps if you made things right with my sister, she will let you see them. For now, my hands are tied regarding the situation and I have stayed away from matters regarding you and my sister."

Philip sighed. "I do not want to go to war over my daughters."

"Even if you did, we'd have Scotland, England, Ireland _and _Italy with us," Bash warned him. "You'd be better off signing a treaty. I'm sure your daughters will be happy in France with marriages to secure their futures. Work with their mother to find a decent conclusion to this situation."

Philip glowered. "I am not a bad father."

"I am not saying that you are," Bash replied. "I am certain your daughters miss you just as much as you miss them but you can't deny that you will not be able to protect them-"

"My wife is their cousin," Philip told him. "She will not harm them."

"Can you be sure of your mistress?" Bash asked. His own mother killed his twin half-sisters. Bash knew how murderous and conniving mistresses got, his own mother a clear example. "You can't always see beyond the lust you have for one's mistress. Either way, seek the King of France for matters relating to your daughters-"

"I will reinstate their titles," Philip quickly said.

Bash turned away. "Do what you want. Do not step foot on my lands again." He nodded at the guard. "Close the gates."

He headed back to the entrance of the house and got off his horse, his stableboy immediately tending to it as he headed inside with his head guard.

"How many?"

"We caught five," the guard said. "What should we do with them?"

"Release them," Bash ordered. "All but one, switch with one of ours who knows Spanish and Portuguese."

The guard nodded. "Yes, My Lord," he said before he left.

Bash headed to the middle chambers, opening the doors and finding Bella plaiting Kitty's hair who was plaiting Anastasia's hair. Alexander was reading a book to a settled Willow, kissing the dog every now and then on the top of its head. He smiled and went over to his wife, kissing her on the forehead.

"The King of Spain and Portugal," he whispered to her. "Wants his daughters. Don't react."

Kenna smiled and turned to look up at him. "What did he say?" She whispered back.

"Tried to appeal to my better nature."

"He doesn't know that my husband isn't easily swayed," she mumbled, her hands going to his collar and straightening it out as he turned to watch the children. "Bash...?"

Bash looked away from the children to face her. "Yes?"

"Do we have anything to worry about?"

"Not at all," he promised her. "I've sent them to Francis which isn't ideal but I'll write to Leeza. Coded, of course. Let her know that she must keep up the pretence that the girls are with her and under Francis and Mary's care. If anything happens, which nothing will, we can deal with it."

Kenna frowned but nodded before pulling him closer to her. "I need to tell you something-"

"Papa?"

Bash turned and gave Xander a bright smile. "I promised you a horse ride later on, didn't I?"

Xander grinned. "Yes, Papa!"

Bash nodded. "Your mama and I need to talk but you return to Willow and in a few hours, I'll take you to the stables."

"Fine," Xander mumbled, leaving their sides.

"You were saying?"

"I-"

"My Lord, a letter from Fontainebleau," his page told him, handing him the sealed note.

Bash sighed, kissing Kenna's forehead before leaving her side to read the letter. It wasn't that it was private or anything, but he needed to make sure that the Spaniards didn't go there first.

He sighed in relief, scanning the letter. "Claude and Lawrence made it to the chateau," he explained to his wife, turning to her. "So did the Castleroys."

"Does that mean...?"

"They're all coming here," Bash told her.

Kenna beamed happily. "That's good but what about King Philip?"

"He'll stand down."

"Are you certain?" She asked.

Her husband nodded. "I am. He and Leeza will talk things through and come to an agreement. For now, let's focus on preparing Avon for their visit."

"Can we excuse ourselves?"

Bash nodded and helped her up with a hand and she linked their arms together, leading them away from earshot. They left the room and found the head guard heading their way.

"They've departed, My Lord," he said before quickly acknowledging Kenna. "My Lady."

"Cassius," she greeted back.

"Our spy has gone with them," Cassius said. "Further orders, My Lord?"

Bash shook his head. "Only page my ward. A letter for Fontainebleau must be written and sent."

"Very well," Cassius said. "I will find him again."

Finally alone once again, Kenna unlinked her arm with Bash's and cupped his cheeks.

"Is your attention on me alone?"

Bash smiled, his hand on hers. "Yes."

"I'm... I had to be sure but..."

"But...?"

Kenna smiled with a soft blush on her cheeks as her hands went to his shoulders. "I've not had my monthly for two months now. It's too soon to tell but-"

"You and Mary did always liked doing things together," Bash said lightly.

"Are you happy? If I am?" Kenna asked gently. "I mean, we've lost a baby not two years ago and... You've heard Anastasia talk about being the only girl and everything."

"Do you want this baby?"

Kenna shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe I'm being silly. We should be happy. I'll have my chamber pot checked."

Bash brought her hands down and kissed them. "Baby blues. It happens. That along with the fear of giving birth again."

Kenna pouted a little. "I love you, Bash."

"I love you more," he whispered, kissing her lips. His eyes were drawn to Cassius waiting patiently. "Excuse me, my love. Go and rest, we did wake earlier than expected."

"What about the children?"

"I'll have the governesses take them for Morning Prayer," Bash said.

She sighed. "Very well. Go and do what you must."

"Don't be annoyed-"

"I'm not," Kenna assured him. "I'm just tired. Make sure the Spaniards leave."

"I will. Don't worry."

He turned, leaving her grip to head over to Cassius.

"One spy was found to remain at the duchy," he said lowly. "Seems the Spanish King didn't believe you."

Bash sighed. "We're going to have to tell Francis to stay put."

...

"Unpack everything," Francis said, entering his and Mary's bedchambers. "Bash wrote to Leeza and me. First, telling her to keep up the pretence that Isabella and Catherine are with us. Second, to warn us about King Philip coming. Third, spies have been found in Avon."

Mary sighed, covering her mouth. "Oh, God. I thought we'd have peace."

"Me too," Francis said. "I have letters being written to Elizabeth and the Duke of Barton as we speak. Should anything happen, we will have armies making their way to France."

"We ought to welcome Philip with warm arms," Mary said, getting up. "A treaty."

Francis sighed. "Perhaps," he mumbled. "However, Leeza tells me his grip on the Netherlands is weakening."

Mary shook her head. "Francis-"

"We can teach him a lesson," Francis said. "Teach him that angering a Valois is not wise."

"Francis," Mary said warningly. "We've just recovered from the civil war, you wish for a global one?"

Francis tutted, heading to the fireplace and crossing his arms as he watched the flames. "My father had peace with him by marrying my sister to him. Now that peace is threatened over the fact he discarded her as if she was leftovers."

"But that does not warrant war, my love," Mary told him gently.

"We have no obligation to be in peace. He broke his promise, broke the treaty he and my father signed. I am the King of France now, I must make these decisions for _our_ benefit."

"The Treaty of Cateau-Cambresis, in which France recognises Spanish sovereignty over Franche-Comté," Mary began. "Do you wish to break that?"

"We've signed many treaties with this king," Francis said angrily. "He breaks them and we bend over and kneel?"

Mary shook her head. "No, but there can be a peaceful way."

"Who is to say that Philip does not think about putting Isabella on our throne?" Francis asked his wife. "Leeza says she's the apple of his eye. More sharp than her sister. Catherine vies for his attention but it's Isabella who receives it. As Leeza ceded her rights to the throne, her daughter comes after our sons."

"And the fact that Philip placed spies at your half-brother's duchy," Mary breathed out.

Francis closed his eyes. "If he gets rid of Bash, I have no one that I trust apart from you and Leith. Bash knows Scotland and France inside out and taking him out will wound me."

"We must act to protect our sons before Philip arrives."

"I may be overthinking this, overreacting even-"

"No, we have reason to be cautious," Mary told him. "After Narcisse and Bourbon... I don't want to take any chances."

Francis bowed his head, feeling Mary's hands massage his shoulders. "I don't want to."

"But we must. Speak to Leeza first."

Francis turned to face her. "And tell her that we're going to war because her husband wants to rip her daughters away from her even more?"

"Leeza-"

"Always seeks for peace. The whole point of her marriage was for peace reasons," Francis said, struggling with the inward battle in his head. "I'm afraid this may change her even more."

Mary kissed his jawline. "She has us."

"They all do."

"Then we're going to war."

Francis shakily nodded. "We're going to war."

He left their bedchamber and culled Robin to his side along with Leith as they made their way to his offices.

"Robin, I need you to send your father a coded message."

Robin nodded. "Yes, Your Majesty."

"You need to tell him, we're taking the Netherlands from Philip of Spain and Portugal."

Robin gasped as Leith turned to him in shock. "Y-Yes, Uncle," he quickly said before bowing and rushing off.

"Are you sure?"

"I've never been as sure as I am now," Francis replied firmly. "I need you by my side."

Leith nodded. "Without question, Francis."

"I'm terrified, Leith."

"I know," Leith said. "But we have all the power on our side. I will send word for Scotland and England."

Francis nodded his thanks. "A good king makes the hard decisions."

"At least this isn't a civil war," Leith said lightly, making Francis smile.

* * *

**Family goodness to come!**


	64. A Religious Queen

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**Sav.129 [chapter 63]: It is! In the next chapter ;)**

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* * *

"Cardinal," Mary began. "Thank you for coming on such short notice."

She walked beside Cardinal Leo, Kenna, Greer and Lola behind them as they walked around the gardens.

"I see that God has blessed you, King Francis and France with another child," Leo said.

Mary smiled, turning a little to catch Kenna's eyes. "He's been very... kind in regards to making our family grow."

"Now, your husband seeks to go to war with Spain and Portugal," Leo stated.

Mary nodded. "I agree with his decision."

"But you have doubts?"

"We are put in a difficult position," Mary explained. "Franco-Spanish relations have been flourishing under the marriage of my husband's sister to King Philip. Now that he has cast her aside in favour for his own sibling's child no less, he has broken years of peaceful treaties."

Leo sighed heavily. "Well, within reason. Kings need male heirs and how long has it been since your king's sister bore him a child?"

Mary winced. "She said she... gave birth to stillborn sons and miscarried ever since Catherine's birth. Elisabeth is young, not since passed thirty and he couldn't have been more... understanding of the pressures bestowed upon women? Queens? Even the King and I had trouble in that department, bearing two daughters first in our marriage before James." She shook her head slightly. "What do you know that can ease my mind in regards to settling this war as quietly as possible?"

Leo gave her a small smile. "He is gaining favour with the French Protestants, Majesté."

Mary sighed. "He wishes to take the French throne?"

"Many believe your husband is greedy in his conquest," Leo replied.

"Greedy?" Mary asked, incredulous. "May I remind everyone that I am the Queen of Scotland? England and Ireland were gifted via _my_ cousin to me and in turn, I blessed my husband, as a good wife should, with my countries. My husband is not greedy and anyone who believes so should be told otherwise. We are only claiming what is rightfully ours."

"The Netherlands does not belong to you."

Mary's eyes twitched. "Well, Portugal did not belong to Philip."

"Your Majesty?" Kenna's voice came through. "His Majesty requests your presence in his offices."

Mary nodded. "Your Eminence, continue to enjoy our scenery with my ladies-in-waiting. The Duchess knows her plants and flowers. Perhaps, you could splice some to try in Italy as Lady Castleroy entertains you with her harp."

She kissed his ring and he bowed his head before she left, guards flanking her sides as she returned to the castle. She made her way to the offices, finding Francis surrounded over a table.

"You called for me?"

"Mary," Francis said in greeting. "I was thinking you would want to be a part of strategies."

Mary nodded. "Very well," she said, noting who was in the room.

Robin, as Francis's ward. Bash as Francis's most trusted. Leith as Francis's King's Deputy. Robert, the Duke of Barton as Francis's regent in Scotland and Elizabeth as the English regent.

They all turned their attention to the door when it opened and Elisabeth Valois entered, coming up to the table and saying, "Mother and Claude are with the children. I couldn't sit about, twiddling my thumbs whilst you're planning a war against my former husband."

"Fine," Francis said, pointing at the Franche-Comté region. "Our father gave this region to Philip following Elisabeth's marriage. I want it back. I also want the Netherlands."

"I thought that will be a warning," Bash told him with a slight frown.

"I thought better of it," Francis replied. "I want it."

"Anything else, Your Majesty?" Leith asked lightly. "Perhaps, Portugal?"

"Do _not_ give him ideas!" Mary cried out.

Francis bit his lip. "Actually..."

"Francis..."

"He's appealing to the French Protestants under our noses," Francis told his wife. She knew this. "We can appeal to the Spanish-Portuguese Catholics. Secure the French throne." He turned to Leeza. "We must marry your daughters off immediately."

Leeza's eyes widened. "Their alliances were broken in the divorce," she said. "I've just got my daughters back and now we're selling them to the highest bidders?"

"Not exactly," Francis said. "They will be French citizens." He eyed Bash. "What if Isabella married-"

"Don't. Say. It," Bash said.

"They're half-cousins-"

"_First_ half-cousins," his siblings told him.

Robin paled. "Do you mean to say...?"

"Robin, avert your ears," Bash said.

Robin covered his ears. "Yes, Father."

Bash turned to Francis. "Kenna will never approve-"

"We can annul the marriage _after_ the threat is over. Isabella is Philip's favourite. We marry her and Robin until the war is over. Their marriage will only be a formality to warn Philip that his daughters belong to their mother and he cannot use them as pawns," Francis told his brother and sister. "I wouldn't be asking if it wasn't an option."

Leeza sighed. "Bash?"

"I promised my son he would marry for love," Bash told them. "After how his mother and I were... Cousins are off the table, I am sorry."

"Shouldn't we ask him?" Francis asked. "He's a man soon. If not so already. Thirteen come August, the same age you were when you went to fight your first war on Father's behalf. We can't keep our children as such for long, Bash. Robin is at the age where he is learning how the world works. There is no time for fairytales at this age. It's a reality."

Mary watched as Bash struggled to come up with an answer and she turned to Francis. "Bring this forward to Kenna first."

"They do not have to consummate the marriage," Francis continued quickly to assure the parents. "In name only. Philip will not be able to find a way out of the marriage nor seek an annulment. The Pope will arrive here and will make the marriage secure until everything is over. We can then annul the marriage on the basis of it not being consummated."

Robert finally spoke up. "If my father was still alive, he would agree and would be making moves to convince my sister."

"Who is in agreement?" Francis asked, giving Robert a grateful nod.

"Aye," Robert said.

Elizabeth of England nodded, sipping her drink. "Yes, very well."

"Yes," Leith said after Francis gave him a look.

Francis turned to the parents of said children. "Brother? Sister?"

"Yes," Leeza whispered, her voice breaking.

Bash sighed. "I am overruled then."

Francis nodded apologetically. "I will talk to Pope Clement when he arrives in due course. It is decided. The Pope and Cardinal will oversee the wedding."

"As for battle positions?"

"I will go to the Netherlands with our French army," Francis said, placing the dolphin figurine on top of the country on the map. "Bash, you take the Azores in Portugal with our Anglo-French fleet. Leith, you will go to Burgundy with our Franco-Scots army as Robert remains here." He sighed heavily. "In order to prevent our Protestants taking Philip's side, I will have to have an edict drawn up, handing them territory and rights, strengthening Father's ties to them when he signed the Edict of Nantes. I will bring it forward with Castleroy, ask that he appeal to his Protestant allies."

Bash nodded. "Are we done?"

"Yes," Francis said, not taking his eyes off the figurines.

Bash nodded and all but pulled his son out of the room, Leith following after with Robert joining the blonde as well. Elizabeth picked up the decanter and gave the King a dramatised curtsey before she left. Leeza turned to Francis, sharing a brief glance with Mary.

"You should be resting, wife," Francis said.

"You as well," Mary told him, placing a gentle hand on his cheek.

Leeza nodded. "You are leaving for war soon. You will need to cherish the time you have left with the family."

Francis sighed and turned, placing a hand on Mary's twenty-two-week old bump. "How is the baby?"

"The baby is wondering why their papa lies awake at night," Mary replied softly. "I am worried too. Anxious even but we will win."

Francis kissed her. "I know."

Leeza took his other side, leaning her head against his shoulder. "I am sorry-"

"Leeza-"

"This is all my fault," she whispered. "My nephew is to marry my daughter to protect her and... Years of peace destroyed because of my hastiness."

Francis turned to face her. "Your husband divorced you without your knowledge. Made your daughters illegitimate, ignored claims his mistress was set to cause harm upon you and them. He's a selfish, bitter, old man and I am glad France has a chance to get back at him for all the damage he'd caused during our father's rule. You never should have married him. I'll protect you all now."

Mary smiled proudly at her husband, running her fingers through his blonde curls. "My strong king," she breathed out in awe. "Always protective of his family."

"You are all my strength," Francis told the women. "Not my weakness and these coming months will show _everyone_ what happens when you cross a Valois king."

"Indeed," Leeza said, lifting up a full goblet of wine. "I will drink to that."

...

Robin leaned back in his seat. "There's nothing you can do?"

Bash shook his head. "I'm sorry."

Kenna cupped her son's cheeks, giving him a wry smile. "When this is over, your marriage will be ended and you can marry whoever you wish-"

"The Archduchess of Prussia."

"Robert Francis!" His parents cried out.

Robin grinned wryly. "We're in love."

"It can never happen," Bash told him. "If you were Charles or Henri's son, yes but you're the French King's bastard brother's son. It will never come to be."

Robin sighed. "At least going to war will ease my heartbreak. Perhaps I'll die, married to my cousin no less!"

His parents hit his arms, emitting a cry from his lips.

"Do not say things like that," Kenna said angrily. "You will _not_ die and your father has just convinced me to let you fight beside your uncle. If I had it my way, you will remain here with me and your siblings because I know your father will leave if I want him to or not."

Bash rolled his eyes. "Robert, you will mary Bella and when the war is over, your marriage will be annulled and you will both be free to marry whomever you wish to marry."

"For the love of God, just don't bed her," Kenna told their son, sharing a pointed look with her husband. "Valoises are known to be... well, you don't need to know about that, my Sweetrobin."

Robin tutted. "I know about... _that_."

"Why do I even try and hide things?" Bash mumbled.

"I can't control my visions, Father," Robin told him. "They just happen. Things I wish I could unsee." He took his mother's hands. "I'm scared, Mama."

Kenna closed her eyes, squeezing her son's hands. "I know you are. I am too."

"Robert," Bash began. "War changes a man. Ideally, I'd not want to expose you to that until you were sixteen but Francis is right. I was barely thirteen when I first took someone's life and since then, there was a darkness inside me that grew and I had to keep feeding it until I almost lost sight of who I was. I wasn't a good husband to your mother back then and I really don't want you to repeat my mistakes. Taking one's life should never be taken lightly but at the same time, your survival is all that counts. Fight for your life, Robert. With all your might, fight for your life and your wish to come_ home_."

"Is there a chance we could... have one last Morning Prayer together as a family?" Robert asked quietly.

Kenna sniffled. "Of course, my darling son."

...

Mary finished brushing Bella's hair, fitting on an ornate headpiece that she lent the girl. She placed her hands on the girl's shoulders and looked at her through the mirror.

"Remember, straight back and kiss the Pope's ring when you meet him," Mary told her niece, gently stroking the girl's cheek. She was terrified, the poor thing. "You know, this marriage isn't for perpetuity?"

"Feels like it," Bella's thick Spanish accent mumbled before her eyes widened. "Majestad."

Mary smiled softly. "When this war is over, so will your marriage be. You will be free to wed another of yours and your mother's choosing, your maidenhood intact."

"I barely know Robin. Dios mío."

"He's a darling, niña," Mary said to her. "He saved Rose's life. You have plenty of time to acquaint yourself with your cousin as a family after the war and no longer spouses. This is only a formality to make your father think twice about what he is doing to France. To your mother's birth country, the country your mother adores and loves so much and he is working to destroy that. I know you love your father but threatening your mother and King Uncle is not wise."

Bella sighed and nodded. "I understand, Your Majestad."

"In private, you must refer to me as your aunt," Mary told her. "I will make sure that you, your sister and your mother are safe."

Bella smiled. "Thank you... Tia Mary."

A while later, Bella and Robin were united in matrimony and Kenna closed her eyes, still in disbelief at the situation. Neither she nor Bash or Leeza could complain. It's not like the children will be married for long. This was just a way to stop Philip in his tracks.

When it was over, Catherine and Leeza took Bella away with the girls as Robin went to his parents, his head bowed.

"You promise that this isn't permanent?" He asked them, taking his mother's outstretched hand.

Bash lifted up his chin. "I promise," he said, kissing his forehead.

Robin nodded and gestured for John to follow him as they left, presumably to spar or go for a horse ride. The boys were growing up and soon, they will both go off to war, John convincing his parents that he wanted to be where Robin was. Robin, his best friend and cousin.

"He looked so sad," Kenna mumbled to Mary, Lola and Greer as they left the Cardinal and Pope with the King and his brother. "I did not imagine my daughter-in-law to be my husband's niece."

"It's better than marrying your own sibling's daughter," Lola told her softly.

Mary nodded. "Kenna, it's not forever," she told her beloved friend. "I've even sent a marriage proposal between the Archduchess of Prussia and Robert. I figured he should get what he wants after being forced to marry his cousin."

Kenna smiled, rolling her eyes. "Of course, he'd go to his favourite aunt."

"And godmother, but who is asking?" Mary teased them. "I would do anything for all of your children. Robin more so as he saved Rose's life all those years ago. If he wants lands, I will make sure he gets them. If he wants marriage, I will organise one of his choosing. If the Archduchess's regent is insulted by our proposal, they will regret being so after I'm done with them."

The women giggled and Mary hugged Kenna.

"We must rest," she said, holding the other woman's hands. "Our babes must be so tired after that ordeal."

Kenna groaned. "Oh, my son got married whilst I was with child. That is _not_ how I saw his wedding day to go."

"His parents are overzealous in making love-"

"Greer? Shut up," Kenna told her before they laughed. "In all seriousness, I can't wait for this to all be over."

"Neither can I," Mary mumbled as they headed to their chambers.

...

Mary woke up early the next morning, finding her husband staring out the window with only his undershorts. She sighed and slipped out of bed, her hair falling over her shoulders as she wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed his back, resting her cheek against it.

"My love?" She called him quietly. "It's still quite early."

Francis nodded. "I know," he said. "Philip is using religion as a cover for an attack against us, appealing to both our Catholics and Protestants. We just need to maintain the balance of religion in all countries under our rule. To stop zealots like Philip destroying everything we've built."

"Francis... I found out that Philip financed the Catholic League," she whispered.

Francis sighed heavily. "Well, I have my faith in Leith to stop them in Burgundy. They believe they can hide. Despicable."

"I have faith in _you_ to lead our countries into victory," Mary told him, coming to stand in front of him. "Look at me."

"I am," he whispered, his eyes meetings hers.

"I am already preparing for a grand feast," she told him with a soft smile. "Your favourite - venison and Persian chicken. The best wine imported from Italy. We shall not mourn but celebrate. Bask in our strength and fruitfulness."

Francis placed his hands on her bump. "I have a feeling that you will be holding a baby when I return."

Mary blushed. "I will try and wait for you."

"Don't," he breathed out. "Either way, you will look beautiful. Your beauty increases by the day. I wish I could have you with me."

"When are you leaving?"

"Three days."

"That soon?"

"We've already set things in motion," Francis replied, going over to the desk.

Mary nodded. "Right. I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too," he said, coming over to kiss her before returning to the desk and finding something. He retrieved a chain. "I'll need you to keep my rings with you."

"Of course."

"Close to your heart," he told her, slipping them through the chain and clasping it around her neck. "You mean everything to me. You and the children."

Mary beamed happily. "I love you with all my heart. To my last dying breath."

He turned her around and kissed her. "Want to tire me out before we must wake?"

Mary giggled. "I'd want nothing more."

Come morning, Mary attended the chapel with her ladies-in-waiting beside her. She stared at the statue of the Virgin Mary and swallowed deeply.

"Vierge Marie, protect our husbands, sons, nephews and our men as they prepare for this war. Let no woman or child's tears be in vain," Mary prayed, her prayer beads tight in her grip. "Please, look over our men and bring them home to us. In our Lord's name, I pray."

"Amen."

She led the ladies out of the chapel, the Cardinal bowing his head at her to which she responded with her own curtsey. "Your Eminence. Is His Holiness taking an audience?"

"You seek him, my child?"

"I do," Mary replied.

"He is indisposed but you should try again this night," he told her.

"I will. Thank you. I bid you good morn," she said before she and her ladies left.

She smiled when Peter ran up to her. "Mama, Papa asks you to join us in the conservatory!"

Mary chuckled, taking his hands. "Ladies, you are dismissed."

For the purpose of being in public, the women smirked but curtseyed before leaving in different directions. Greer to find her family, Kenna to find hers and Lola to find John and baby him until he was no longer a boy but a man.

Mary gasped when Peter opened the door for them and her eyes met Francis's.

"The girls thought we could make flower arrangements," Francis said, gesturing to all the different colours of flowers around. "I may have been saving them for our anniversary, but seeing as that falls when I am away..." At war.

"Oh, Francis," Mary breathed out happily.


	65. A Motherly Queen

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**Guest (1) [chapter 64]: More sweetness down below!**

**FeliLuna13 [chapter 64]: Indeed, Francis does seem a bit greedy but he will have his friends and family to keep him grounded! Spain vs Francis coming right up after this chapter!**

****Apologies for the delay. Writer's block. Exams. Uni stress overall. Now this global situation... I made a short story, was inspired by events close to the heart amongst others so I could write that during my block for this story. Basically, I have a lot of first chapters for Reign stories and most don't meet the cut or are being revised and decided against. I will still work on the ones I have out now, although short stories are helping me get through this difficult time in my personal life. It's hard, I find it hard to smile, but we have to be grateful that we're alive, and I hope you are all safe. Love you guys x Bex.****

* * *

"Your Majesties," Leith called them, bowing low before stepping aside. "The Spanish Ambassador, Diego Mendoza."

Mendoza bowed low himself. "Your Majesties."

Francis turned to Mary a little and said, "So he sends his lapdog to do business."

"Forgive me, Your Majestad, but you sent yours," Mendoza said to them. "Your bastard half-brother."

Bash's eyes flashed, his hand going to the hilt of his sword but he didn't use it. "No, the King of Spain and Portugal came to _me_. Littered my lands with spies. Spies who could have done harm to my wife and children if I had not been aware of their presence."

"Bash," Francis called him. He turned his attention to Diego. "Why did he send you after seeing my brother? Why can't he come here himself, be a man? A king?"

"My King wishes to settle this matter quietly, just as with your sister's marriage dissolution," Diego explained. "He was... _stressed _with grief over his daughters' wellbeings. Isabel and Caterina are his pride and joy. Every day without them is breaking his heart."

Francis snorted, sharing a look with Mary. "Yet, we have reports of his subsequent marriage to Anna of Austria, his own niece, and talk of a male heir has arisen. Leave the girls be, with their beloved mother who has taken care of them since they drew their first breaths."

"Then we have no choice."

"Go ahead and break the conditions of the treaty he signed with my father," Francis told him, standing from his throne. "You fight, we fight back. And we have not lost any wars since my father's rule."

Diego bowed. "May I have a safe passage back to my party?"

"You may. You may also remain for a night to rest before you leave," Francis said. "We are being gracious, something your king lacks in."

"Majestad," Diego replied, bowing again before bowing to Mary and leaving.

Bash rolled his eyes. "If only I could strangle-"

"Bash, ease your temper," Francis said. "Your love for family will cloud your judgement and right now-"

"I am fine," Bash assured him. "But surrounding my family with spies, my young children and pregnant wife, is not acceptable. I doubt Philip is even indisposed. His acting is as good as a fish out of water."

Francis let out a strangled choke, trying to stop his laughter along with Mary who snorted at Bash's comment. "Even his ambassador is not all that confident, spewing false facts. How does Gustav fare?"

Bash turned to his brother. "My spy successfully infiltrated their camp. Talks of thirty-thousand soldiers and horses arose."

Francis raised his eyebrows, turning to Mary. "Then we leave tonight."

Mary sighed. "I knew it was coming."

"Mama, Papa!"

They turned to see Rose come in, tears in her eyes.

"What is it?"

"Olly's dead," Rose said.

Her parents shared a look before coming over to comfort their daughter.

"Dogs do die in old age, my sweetheart," Francis told her.

Rose shook her head. "Yesterday he was perfectly fine during Anne's and my morning walk. He was fed chocolate."

"Perhaps one of your brothers fed it to him by accident," Mary suggested. "I'm sure-"

"I saw the Spanish Ambassador's servant feed him something and he looked around before leaving. Then, I went to check on Olly and he was... he was gone."

Francis set his jaw. "Darling, we will hold a funeral for Olly the Dog. Right now, we need the room."

Rose nodded and left, leaving Francis to stand up straight and shake his head.

"Poisoning a pet dog," Francis scoffed. "Can they sink any lower?"

"I'll ready our men," Leith told him.

"And do not let anyone we are leaving earlier than expected," Francis said. "And keep eyes on the Ambassador and his party at all times."

Leith bowed. "Yes, Your Majesty," he said before leaving.

"Was my displeasure justified?" Bash asked lightly, backing out of the room.

"Say your 'goodbyes'," Francis said, smiling. "And... _yes_."

...

"Do you really have to go?" Peter asked, pouting as he clutched at Francis's shirt.

"I do, my darling," Francis replied, kissing the top of his head. "But I will always keep your mother, you and your siblings close to my heart."

"How?" Joseph asked. "We won't be with you."

Francis chuckled. "You know how God is in us? The Holy Spirit?"

"Yes..." James drawled.

"Well, my family, all of you, are in my heart," Francis told the little boys. "And I will miss you so."

James and Joseph latched onto him as well, sending him back lying on the grass. He laughed and they giggled, his hands roaming through their different coloured hair, so soft, curly or straight. His darling boys.

He spotted John watching and gestured for him to come.

"Your brothers will miss you," he told the boy when John arrived.

"I will miss them too," John replied.

Francis looked down at the boys. "Wish your older brother well."

They pushed off him and attacked John with hugs, Peter even attempting to climb up the boy's back.

"One last piggyback ride!" Peter begged him.

John laughed. "If you really want!"

"We do! We do!" James and Joseph said as Rose and Anne walked over, flanking their mother.

In Mary's arms, a covered carcass was held.

"Boys, let's say our farewells to Olly the Dog," she said, the girls sniffling.

Francis smiled sadly. "Come on, we will bury him beside Sterling."

No one dared disturb the King, Queen and their children, leaving the family to say goodbye to a dog, a king and an illegitimate son.

...

"Mama?"

Kenna turned and smiled, reaching a hand out for Robin to take. She pulled him to her side and sighed wistfully.

"Why are you out here?" He asked her, looking around the balcony.

Kenna looked down at him. Soon, he'll be taller than her. Perhaps grow during the war and come back, towering over her.

"This balcony... I had my first conversation with your father here, we watched the stars," she said softly. "Well, our conversation was about his father and our relationship and we shared a bottle and I'd never in a thousand years imagined marrying a man as just and wonderful as him. Just under a year later, we both said 'I love you' for the first time, at this very balcony. We've not been here in a long time, at this balcony but it means so much."

"I am glad you found love in one another," Robin told her. "Otherwise I wouldn't exist with Ana and Xander."

"Oh, you'd probably exist," Kenna said. "Just as a courtesy. A man must have an heir."

"I love you, Mama," Robin said, his voice breaking.

Kenna's eyes watered. "I love you too, Robin. You are your father's greatest gift to me. I will pray for you, every day and I will count down the days until you both come home to me. If you don't, I will march down there myself and kill you both before I drag you back home."

Robin laughed, hugging her tightly. "I'm scared."

"Don't be," Kenna said firmly, running her fingers through his hair. "You are your father's son and he's never ever been scared in his life. You have the blood of many warriors before you, soldiers and just men. Be brave."

"I will," Robin promised her, feeling a new pair of arms wrap around them. "Is it time to leave, Papa?"

"Not just yet," Bash said, pressing a long kiss on the top of Kenna's head. "Your sister and brother are looking for you."

Robin nodded and left their embraces. "See you soon, Father."

"Make me proud, Robert," Bash replied. "Not that I never am."

Robin beamed and left, leaving his parents to hug tightly.

"Come home to me," Kenna said against his chest.

Bash chuckled. "Or what?"

"I will kill you myself," she threatened him lightly, looking up to kiss him deeply. "I am too-"

"Spirited to be a widow? God, I know," Bash said. "I can't imagine you wearing black."

Kenna sniffled, running her hands down his chest. "I never do. Want to wear black, I mean. I can't bear it, losing you and... raising our children alone. I won't do it, I won't live without you."

"Kenna-"

"I know... I know I'd feel it if anything happened to you," she whispered shakily. "My heart will... just like the first time. It will break. Irreparable. After this war, I beseech you that no more fighting. Those days will be over, for good."

Bash cupped her cheeks, her eyes lifting to stare into his. "I promise."

She let out a sob, holding him tightly. "Oh, God... Thank you."

...

"Your... portrait," Francis breathed out, staring down at the locket image. "Beautiful."

Mary blushed. "Something to wear close to your heart. Me."

"Mary, I don't know how to thank you-"

"That's not all," she said, handing him another locket.

Francis opened it up and saw that it opened six times. In the first five spots of the tiny locket, their five children's faces were staring back up at him with smiles, seated queenly and kingly. The last spot was empty.

"You will return home for that one," Mary told her husband, rubbing her bump.

"Oh, God, I will," Francis said, kissing her long and hard. "My Queen."

"My King," she responded in kind. "Everything I'd want."

"I love you, Mary," Francis said. "So much."

Mary sniffled, smiling happily. "I love you so much too." She looked out the window and saw Lola and John talking. "Take care of him. And Robert."

"I will," Francis said. "I'll bring them home."

She smiled, working on her laces. "You have an hour. So, let's make love before you go."

Francis grinned. "Something _more_ to remember you by?"

She nodded, giggling. "Mhm," she hummed. "I might need your help undressing..."

"As my Queen commands."

...

Mary stood, watching as their King, King's Deputy and Archduke leave with armies trailing behind, two young boys beside them. She waved a little when Francis turned to look at her, but it was hard to tell as it was dark, the moon in the sky and the warm glow of torches leading away from the castle.

"Bring him home to me," Mary mouthed, looking up with teary eyes and her hands on her bump. "To France."

"Cousin?"

Mary turned to the Duke of Barton, the namesake of his father and the name her favourite nephew bore. "Yes?"

"You must rest. You've been on your feet all day," he said, his Scottish accent strong and true.

It was, although not always. There were times she was in bed, doing anything but sleeping. She smiled fondly at the idea and accepted Robert's arm, being led away from the marching men.

"How is your wife?" Mary asked as he helped her to her chambers.

"She is well," Robert said. "A lot of births in Scotland. A lot of girls named for _you_."

Mary was surprised. "Our people still...?"

"They understand," Robert explained. "James, he has managed to convince Protestants and Catholics alike to support your husband. I don't know how he did it, but I am impressed."

"My own half-brother," Mary mumbled. "I haven't seen him in so long. I doubt he knows the children."

"I tell him about them if that is no insult to Your Grace?"

"None at all."

"Very well," Robert said "He is proud. French-Scottish children are exactly what our countries need."

Mary sighed. "If only the French could see that. Our council is wrecked. I have to sort that business before Francis returns."

"I will be here to help," Robert told her, finally stopping before her doors and four guards. "Goodnight, Your Majesty." He bowed low and Mary nodded in reply, watching him leave.

Mary felt like a part of her heart had been ripped away and she looked down and saw her sons walk up to her, each with a teddy of choice tucked under their armpits. "My little cherubs. Why are you out of bed?"

"Can we sleep in your bed, Your Majesty?" James asked sweetly.

Mary sighed. She would be all alone, the memory and scent of her husband left to comfort her. "Very well, children. We must not make a habit of this."

But after the fifteenth day, she didn't bother to send them away, the guards now just letting three little princes enter her shared bedchambers and laying claim to their parents' grand bed.

By the twentieth day, their older sisters had joined and Mary smiled, surrounded by her five (six if you count her unborn child) children before she fell asleep, dreams of a blonde king running towards her, eyes sharp blue and lips joyous and happy.


	66. A Brother-In-Law For The Queen

**We are now in July following the end bit of the last chapter. It has almost been a month since they left for war. The Azores battle is based on real-life Franco-Spaniard battle, Battle of Ponta Delgada but altered to fit the story, of course. Now, you guys know how much I love my history so... I'm evil when I don't change some things that aren't in our favour. Just a heads-up, okay? Don't hate me! I love you! Oh, and you know when Bash and Delphine were linked? I won't say more.**

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* * *

"And what do you say, Your Majesty," A noble began, looking at Mary with a firm glare. "As the war continues to wage on, who will pay for it? Whose crops will be shipped off to feed those soldiers? We are feeding Scottish, Irish and English soldiers, why can't their own lands suffice them?!"

Mary glanced down at him in indifference. "I understand your frustration Lord Hanequart, but as France is closer to Spain, the Netherlands and Portugal, it makes sense for France to foot the bill when it comes to feeding our men. Yes, _our_ as the English, Irish and Scottish forces kneel to your king, Francis II of France, Scotland, England and Ireland. By the time we deliver food from across the ocean, they would have spoilt and then our men will starve and no longer be able to fight."

Hanequart bowed his head. "I see, Your Majesty."

"I am glad you do," Mary said, almost snappily. Her pregnancy wasn't making her mood nicer but it wasn't even the pregnancy. It was these dimwits who thought they could bully her now that she 'couldn't hide behind the King'. She scoffed, eyeing Robert incredulously.

"Lord Hanequart," Robert said. "You may take leave and invite the next person in."

The man couldn't get out any quicker, letting a noblewoman enter with her sons. "My husband fights for our King and countries," she said, eyes watery with tears. "He runs our lands, and now soldiers passing through from England raid them! How am I supposed to keep our livelihood going, Your Majesty?"

Mary nodded in understanding. "I will speak with our Ambassador in England," Mary told her. "Ensure he lets Archduchess Elizabeth know of the situation so she can handle it with care. For now, accept some coin in preserving your lands until your husband returns." She gave Robert the nod.

He stepped down the stairs from his position standing beside the Queen and handed the noblewoman a bag full of money. At times like these, Mary was glad she had a wealthy mother-in-law in Catherine and a wealthy brother-in-law in Bash. She didn't have any idea of how their wealth came to be for the most part but she wasn't complaining.

"Oh, thank you, Your Majesty," the woman said, curtseying as her sons bowed. "You are ever so kind."

"Take some out to treat the children. No child should frown in these times," Robert said kindly with Mary's permission.

"Oh, thank you," the woman almost hugged him as she couldn't touch Mary but stopped herself, bowed her head in respect and left, sobbing happily.

"Dear Lord," Mary mumbled, rubbing her bump. "Was she the last one?"

Robert nodded. "Indeed. You are due tea with Cardinal Leo."

Mary sighed. "And the children?"

"In the care of your Ladies," Robert replied. "Is there anything you wish for me to do?"

Mary bit her lip nervously and nodded. "Get me an audience with the leader of the Catholic League."

"Y-Your Majesty?"

"It was too soon that Francis had to leave before currying favour with them," she explained. "I will do it in his place. Invite them, wine and dine them, offer them the best entertainment and secure deals so they do not turn against us after they accepted Philip's finances."

Robert bowed. "Very well. I will do so right away."

Mary gave him a thankful smile and sighed as he left her to her thoughts.

...

The Azores was hot and humid and Bash wiped the sweat from his forehead. He, along with some men who had offboarded their fleet and on-land army, trudged through the sand of the São Miguel Island. A lot of its inhabitants were French loyalists, refusing to kneel to their new Portuguese King from Spain.

It was a simple battle. Help these Portuguese people defend themselves against Spain. In turn, they will be loyal to France and help France maybe one day consume Portugal overall. One part at a time.

They would subdue the São Miguel and Santa Maria Islands - bring them into French colonisation with honourable and attractive rewards - and capture the treasure fleet with their large strength and army that included sixty warships.

"Your Grace," one of the commanders called for Bash.

Bash still felt awkward about his titles now that he'd risen through the ranks since he was a child. He was always 'bastard' or 'my lord' and now recently over the years for his and his wife's efforts for France, 'Your Grace'. Apparently, reserved for great dukes and archdukes as well as monarchs. At this point, he was too disinterested about titles to insist on the man calling him by his chosen name.

"Yes?"

"It is said that the Spanish fleet is two days away," the man said. He was an Italian, loyal to France. Filippo di Piero Strozzi, respectful and in awe of the French King's brother despite being a good fifteen years or twenty years even older than Bash.

Bash nodded. "Remain the ships at sea, those who are near the land should offboard and help build shelters for themselves and the people on the island. We do not know if the Spaniards will attack from inland."

The reason for on-land shelter was due to his seasickness. It had been a long while since he'd been out to sea and he had to stop himself from throwing up everywhere when disembarking the ship. He surely couldn't sleep nor fight on a moving ground. Perhaps it was homesickness and not sea? He didn't know and didn't have the time to think about it.

Strozzi nodded and bowed his head. "Yes, Your Grace."

"Bash."

"Pardon?"

"We're comrades," Bash said, looking out to sea where the beautiful sight of the French fleet rode the waves. "Just Bash. We don't need to waste time on formalities."

"O-Of course, _Bash_," Strozzi said before leaving his side.

_The element of surprise_, Bash thought. They'd received word that the treasure fleet had intended to land on the Azores and attack from there, going over the seven islands but they would be surprised to be met with the French instead, building a barrier for the islands.

He had separated his army, sending some fleet and forces to Santa Maria and he was yet to get word of their success on landing there before the Spaniards.

After the tents had been put up, Bash made his way to his, guards protecting it. It was all a bizarre affair. Just for _him_. The last time he'd set off for France to check on relations in-country, he had been with Francis and obviously welcomed to remain in his brother's tent but alone in his own tent? With men bowing at _his_ feet? If only his father could see him now. He didn't need a crown, he just wanted respect and Francis was the best brother and _king_ to make that happen. A bastard had surely risen high in the ranks and it was happening all over the world, half-brothers of powerful kings earning their place and love from their people.

Respect.

"Don't bow," Bash told the guards. "No one is to disturb me. I have important documents to write."

"Yes, Your Grace," the first guard said.

"Shall I retrieve your page?" The second guard asked.

Bash nodded, grateful his page and head guard, Cassius had come with him; their services, not all that needed at an already heavily-guarded Avon.

"Yes. Thank you."

Two days later, Bash's eyes snapped open, his body now awake and alert when he heard shouting. He hadn't undressed from his armour, taking to sleep while seated at his desk.

He grabbed his sword and sheathed it, heading out to see ships set aflame in the dark, early morning. The French's or the Spaniards', he did not know.

After a moment, running towards the action, he saw that it was the Spaniards' fleet - the treasure fleet that had some of theirs aflame. His men had done well, despite not fetching for him immediately.

Cassius ran up to him. "You are awake!" He began. "We were coming to retrieve you. The Spaniards..." A breath. "They came to offer a pardon to the people but-"

"They started to attack anyway," Bash finished for him. "Capture the fleet - let every helmsman divert all their ships towards the treasure fleet and let the captains know to use as much gunpower as possible on board. Not wasteful though."

"I will!" Cassius cried out, running off.

Bash rethought his seasickness, putting it down to being homesick and made to get on board his ship. He met with Strozzi, the captain, instructing him to tell his men to use the wind to their advantage. The message was quickly relayed to all ships.

He could feel his stomach churning but now was not the time for fainted stomachs and he put it down to anxiety this time, quickly telling himself that from what they could see, their fleet was bigger, stronger, _resilient_.

The Spanish were outnumbered, two to one.

He moved down the deck, seeing one man on a Spanish ship, staring him down. He had to squint to make out his face and Bash knew who it was. Álvaro de Bazán or Santa Cruz - the Spaniard who was one that had the King of Spain's ear - Elisabeth had warned her brothers about this one, he seldom put her down in public. He was on their biggest ship, São Mateus, a vessel of 750 tonnes armed with 30 guns. Information from Elisabeth was proving well - this ship was her former husband's favourite and she'd been on board once after it had been built, going to bless the ship with Philip's permission.

That ship _will_ be destroyed, Bash decided.

"Direct the canons to the largest ship!" Bash ordered, a soldier quickly running down to instruct the men to ready the canons. The ship shifted on the sea and Bash almost vomited but he closed his eyes and cleared his mind. He didn't know where all of this sickness was coming from, was he really scared?

They managed to surround the ship where Santa Cruz was on board, batter it with artillery and have it boarded by several French ships but her sailors stood their ground. In fact, began to fight back twice as hard under Santa Cruz's orders.

Bash swallowed hard, seeing that the Spaniards had seemingly grown some, starting to get closer to the French - taking the fight back to them.

"Bash!" Strozzi cried out. "What do we do?"

"Keep firing the canons!" Bash told him, going down himself to see what was taking his men so long. "Aim them at the two largest - São Martinho and São Mateus." His spy had also done well in giving him information - the man was later found with his throat slit via word from Avon.

Bash would have to prepare a funeral, the man had no family.

"They are arranging themselves in a line abreast!" Strozzi announced.

"Use our artillery with sense at mutually supporting groups of four to charge! Assail each of them one of the great vessels of the enemy!" Bash ordered.

Bash, at this point, then filled a canon himself and had the man working it, fire it off. They had no time to was-

They were all jolted back, the ship hit as a great hole appeared on the ground beneath them, quickly filling with water.

"Keep firing!" Bash said, getting back up. "Do not offboard until absolutely necessary!" They had to keep fighting.

He knew they'd mentally think _when_ exactly was that point but he knew these men were not stupid even if illiterate.

He breathed a sigh of relief when the São Mateus went down, the ship of Santa Cruz. He hoped the man to be dead if not soon enough.

But then he felt something hit his chest, straight through his armour. Strozzi looked down and he looked down himself, pressing a gloved hand over the hole. Blood.

He'd been shot by a gun.

"Your Grace-"

Bash felt his legs buckle from beneath him, feeling supported by Strozzi. "I'm fine," he hissed out, the taste of metallic in his mouth. "Keep fi-"

They were hit again, this time with another canon which had now began to promptly sink his ship. All around him, Bash could see his ships sinking as he got to his knees, his strength quickly leaving him as the blood refused to stem. Most were still fighting and Cassius, upon seeing his master's descend had taken it upon himself to command.

Then there was the on-land battle which looked like they were winning. Thankfully.

Water filled the ship and before the men could jump it, it split in half entirely with a loud groan and creak, sending them all into the ocean in one quick motion.

Bash could feel himself sink.

...

Kenna gasped in pain, pressing a hand against her chest as Lola and Greer reached out to steady her, Mary's eyes wide in concern. Kenna swallowed hard, waving it off with a soft chuckle but then she let out a cry, her legs buckling as the pain intensified.

"Kenna! What is it?" Mary demanded, kneeling to cup her friend's now sweaty cheeks. "Is it the baby? Where's the pain?"

"My heart," Kenna sobbed.

"Fetch Nostradamus!" Mary told Greer who began to run off, leaving her and Lola to console Kenna. "We need to get you to your bedchambers."

Kenna nodded shakily. "I-I think I can-" She cut herself off with another cry of pain, telling them that she didn't know what was happening but it was terrifying her.

Mary and Lola shared a look and the queen looked up to see Cardinal Leo hastily making his way over. "Your Eminence."

"Is Her Grace alright?" He asked, using his cane to support him as he came to kneel before the women. "We can hear her screams across the castle."

Mary mentally cursed before quickly asking for forgiveness. "She is taken unwell."

"Is it the babe?"

"We do not believe so," Mary replied as a guard easily lifted the Archduchess into his arms, the woman shivering and sobbing.

When they had her in her bed, Nostradamus doing all he could to find out what was going on, he gave Mary a look.

"Could you all empty the room?" She ordered, sending the Cardinal a grateful smile as Lola and Greer led the concerned man of God out. "What is it, Nostradamus? Tell me!"

"I must... I must use my-"

"Do whatever you must," Mary said firmly, granting him permission.

Nostradamus took a deep breath in and placed a hand on Kenna's forehead, the woman having been given something to sleep. His eyes flashed with images and he gasped, coming back to the room.

"Y-Your Majesty-"

"What is it?!"

Nostradamus warily met Mary's eyes. "Sebastian's fleet was defeated."

Mary gasped, covering her mouth. "I-Is he dead?"

"I do not know. All I saw were ships burning and some fleeing but his ship... It was sunk and on flames," the man whispered. "I think I know what is going on. He was linked to the woman in the woods, the healer. Perhaps after her death, he became linked to-"

"Kenna..., granting their son the gift of seeing," Mary finished quietly. "Do not speak a word of this. She is ill with a fever, it will break soon."

"Of course," Nostradamus said, already leaving some vials to make it seem as such.

Mary gave him a pointed look. "We must keep the word of their defeat quiet. I have to let Francis know somehow. I have to seek out an army to help defend them. Finish what they started because I _refuse_ to believe that my brother-in-law is defeated when our fleet is bigger than the treasure fleet."

She got up, squeezing an unconscious Kenna's hand before leaving the room. She turned to her ladies and Cardinal Leo. None of whom knew of the family's pagan or seeing ways. It is a secret that she would take to the grave along with Francis, Bash, Kenna and the boy himself, Robert Francis.

"Fever," Mary said, making them gasp. "From pain in the heart. The stress of our husbands and sons at war was getting to her. We must leave her on bed rest for her health and the baby's."

The Cardinal nodded in understanding. "May I pray for her?"

Mary swallowed hard, meeting his eyes. "Pray for us all, Your Eminence."

_Pray for us _all_._


	67. A Husband For The Queen

**Right, we are moving into hostile situations in this chapter. The last chapter was only the beginning. This chapter now focuses on the Eighty Years' War where the Spanish recognised the Netherlands as an independent country after said eighty years of warring and multiple monarchs and countries getting involved in favour of the Protestant Netherlands. As I did in the previous chapter, I've altered situations to fit in the story (changed timelines etc) and taken bits from history. We are now beginning this chapter in August, where Mary's seven months into her pregnancy and Kenna is six by the end, well... you'll see. Shit's going down. This is a long chapter, you all bloody deserve it for my long break, haha. Buckle up, guys.**

**The war will fully be in this chapter. It was meant to be two chapters but I didn't want to keep it from you and I couldn't think of a fitting chapter title so I decided on one for both. Also, also (haha), I hate writing battle scenes, if you read my GoT stories, you'd realise and in the earlier chapters of this story. I apologise for the vagueness but you can Wikipedia the wars discussed in this chapter and the previous chapter which are condensed somewhat on Philip of Spain's Wikipedia page.**

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****elder441 [chapter 66]: You will find out soon enough and yes, Bash and Kenna are linked in the way that if he dies, she'll die with him.****

* * *

Francis crumpled the piece of paper in his hand and sent it into the campfire. He looked up and saw his son and nephew, laughing about something as they took rest for the day from travelling.

He hadn't the heart to tell them the news.

"Robert?"

"Yes, Your Majesty?" Robin quickly said, getting up when he heard his uncle call him by his formal name.

"Your mother," Francis began. _Not father - he can't know yet. We don't know anything yet. There is still hope, but let's not worry the boy about it and reduce his chance of fighting_. "She was taken unwell. It is nothing to be concerned about, the fever will break. She needs to lay off the champagne."

Robin laughed and nodded, sitting back down with a sigh of relief. "My mother does enjoy her champagne. I hope the baby is alright."

"From the midwife's words, it doesn't affect the baby. Both will be fine," Francis said. He hated lying but the boy was still a boy even though he would be a man.

Francis stood and told everyone that he was going for a short walk so he could walk the strain in his legs off. He stretched, keeping his sword sheathed at his hip as he walked on.

They'd lost a battle. But they will _not_ lose a war.

The French fleet had lost ten ships and well over one-thousand men, including Strozzi, Bash's third-in-command who was wounded to death - by order of Santa Cruz before the Spaniard's own death at Bash's orders - and then, still breathing, thrown into the sea. Bash's second-in-command, Cassius, had managed to get their remaining fleet and men away.

The report was very detailed, Mary had written to him after receiving confirmation herself from the men who fled. She had no idea what to do with them. Did they abandon their leader? Their country's commander? Or did they follow instructions or even were smart enough to protect the rest of the fleet they had left once their commander and leader was no longer able to fight?

Ten ships out of sixty destroyed, seven missing, four sunk, two burned, four captured - that was still a good number of ships they had left from their Anglo-French fleet at thirty-three. They fought well. Especially as they killed the Spanish's commanders and destroyed about eleven of their ships, leaving them with seventeen left. But the French had lost well over three-thousand men to death or wounded, missing or captured, and that pained Francis as one could be his brother.

Francis couldn't believe it. They had used their artillery well, operating in mutually supporting groups of four to charge,_ "and assail each of them one of the great vessels of the enemy"_ as the surviving messenger's note of what Bash had said forming in his head. The Spanish fleet suffered severe damage and was weakened but they weren't going down without a fight and proved that they were the underdog. This led to the abuse of the French people living in Spain - Spain had won the battle. They sure as hell will not win the _war_.

The Azores had now been taken over by Philip. But Francis now had control over Santa Maria after his army slaughtered the Spaniards who went there completely. Bloodshed, it had been and it happened as his brother's own battle was being fought and lost at São Miguel.

Francis wanted to cry but he couldn't. He was a king. A _king_. He had to remind himself - a _king_. Number one, kings didn't cry and most especially, didn't grieve. They should be grateful for their life even at the expense of others fighting for _him_. But men had died on his hands.

People with families.

"Your Majesty?"

"What is it?" Francis almost snapped at John before sighing. "Sorry. what is it?" He asked softly now.

"You've been standing here for a long while," John said quietly. "What is wrong?"

Francis gave him a warm smile. "None of your concern, my son. Come, let's see if there is some rabbit to eat."

John narrowed his eyes and didn't say anything as he followed his father, the food now on his mind.

...

"I can't... I can't believe it," Robert breathed out, pressing his lips against his sister's hand. "I refuse to."

"As much as I said," Mary said, quietly as she sat by the fire. "We lost so many men."

Robert glanced her way. "How bad?"

"Very," Mary whispered. "We lost the battle, came out with more but lost more in the sense that the Spanish barely sent enough of their force but they had _power_."

"We must build our ships, bigger, stronger, _better_," Robert told her.

Mary rolled her eyes. "Easier said than done."

"Money? We need money?" Robert asked. "I have a lot. My maternal side fell onto me, I have gained my mother's estates from her cousin who died without issue. Bash has money tucked away and I _know_ Catherine de Medici could easily pay for one-hundred ships and spare."

Mary smiled sadly. "We could prepare, but what is done, is done."

Robert sighed heavily. "What do we say to their children? This is the second time they've been apart."

"Anastasia and Alexander are strong," Mary told him. "They will be fine as long as their attention is focused on their cousins. Have you written to our relatives in Scotland?"

"Your half-brother wishes to come. Wants me to convince you to accept his audience," Robert replied.

Mary tutted. "I will. I want you there."

"Of course," he replied. "I must leave but let me know of any changes."

"I will," Mary promised him. "Tell your wife and children I think of them. I hope your son liked his horse."

Robert smiled, getting up. "He did, Your Majesty-"

"We're in close quarters."

"Mary," Robert whispered. "Cousin, I will see you later."

He left and Mary sighed, sipping her water. She had no taste for wine or champagne. She didn't want to die of consumption either. She yawned, placed a hand on her growing bump and settled down asleep. She could make strategies later. Now, her baby wanted to sleep and her right with them.

...

Francis and his army had suffered but they would not be easily defeated. The Azores was only one part of the war - he still had to win and subdue the Netherlands and Leith had to get Burgundy back into French hands.

He was in Antwerp, a prominent province in the Netherlands. The weather was cold, but still warm in the chill Summer months. They couldn't complain, heatwaves were a thing in France.

"The treasure fleet is coming, Your Majesty," one of his soldiers announced to him. "His Grace had managed to have eleven destroyed - the Spanish are weaker."

Francis nodded thoughtfully. "That means they would have men on horses, on foot. They can't heavily rely on their fleet - Bash had most ships destroyed."

"What do we do?"

"We take the fight to them," Francis said. "They would be weakened and licking their wounds but we won't give them any time to rest."

"Are you sure that is wise?"

Francis turned to face William of Orange, or 'the Silent', a prominent exiled member of the Dutch aristocracy. The man was in the Spanish Court and lost favour, deciding that Philip's cruel ways against his beloved country were down to the poison being spoken into his ear from the Spanish nobles.

"Forgive me," William muttered in a strong Dutch accent. "I am a man of fifty, there comes an age when you sit down and think things through properly."

Francis clicked his tongue. "Not at all. I asked for your aid and advice, I will accept your opinions."

William nodded. "For years, we have suffered brutality at Spain's hands. Eighty years of pain, unjust pain."

"I swear, your Protestants and Catholics alike will never be mistreated by France," Francis told him. "I have friends and family who are Protestants even though my wife, children and I are Catholic. As long as you believe in _something_, you have no reason to fear for your life."

"You will burn atheists?" William asked curiously.

Francis tilted his head a little. "Only if they admonish those who believe."

"How can you put an end to this eighty-year-long war?"

"I have a few ideas but more are welcomed," Francis replied firmly.

"You are the first French king I like. A Valois, no less!" William told him. "Your father was a fool to have trust in Philip."

Francis didn't deny nor agree. "You can trust me. Give us all the information you have collected and fight with us."

William paused for a while before he said, "Holland and Zeeland - they will be easy to subdue without bloodshed. It's the central provinces you need to worry about."

"Then, let's talk about strategies."

"The Iron Duke they call him," William said, standing from his seat. "Fernando Álvarez de Toledo, 3rd Duke of Alba. He is pure evil. Alba had two Flemish nobles executed in Brussels' central square. He had erected here at Antwerp a bronze statue of his pompous self trampling my people under his horse's hooves, cast from our melted-down cannon which had been looted by the Spanish troops after the Battle of Jemmingen."

Francis could see the pain in the man's eyes and he promised himself, France, every country under his rule and province that he will liberate them from their tyrants. No one deserved pain for what they believed in. No one person was the same.

William took a sharp intake of breath in. "Alba boasted that he had burned or executed 18,600 of my people, many of them women and children. That does not even amount to how many he has killed during the Spanish sackings over the cities. We have to make them pay."

Francis wanted that. Most especially for Elisabeth who they turned their back on, a woman who had done her duty if not bore a son which was most needed, but still - Henry the Eighth of England had two daughters who had become queens after their half-brother's death. Philip was cruel, masking this underneath a facade of pain, anguish and kindness.

"With blood," Francis promised him.

...

Elisabeth rushed into the dining rooms where the adults were seated. Catherine, Mary, Lola, Greer, Lord Castleroy, Robert and Claude. She breathed heavily, looking at all of them in pain and disbelief.

She had been praying hard at Church, daring anyone to disturb her as she fasted and prayed to God for her brothers' protection as well as her nephews'. Then as she left for dinner after spending all morning and afternoon on knelt knees, she found out from the whispers.

"Tell me it isn't true," she whispered, pressing a hand against her stomach as bile formed in her mouth. "Tell me."

"Leeza, please sit," Catherine commanded her daughter, pulling out a chair. "You look pale. You really must stop this fasting."

"Perhaps you should join me," the former Queen of Spain snapped. "Perhaps it would have stopped our men from being destroyed at the Azores!"

Claude's eyes stung with tears. "Sister, come and eat-"

"Bash is _dead_!"

"We don't know that!" Robert cried out, slamming his hand on the table and making everyone jump. "We don't know that..." It was now a whisper.

Leeza shook her head. "He's not with the men who returned. We are in August now! They had been gone for months before coming back! His ship was sunk, destroyed and sunk and set on fire... Men burnt, slaughtered, beheaded..."

"If he was dead," Mary calmly began. "The Spanish would have sent him as a warning."

Leeza sniffled. "But what if they couldn't retrieve him?"

"He could be captured," Lord Castleroy offered. "I can pay any ransom-"

"Again, we would have received something," Mary said.

"He is strong," Catherine said nonchalantly, buttering up her bread. "He will find his way home."

"Now eat," Claude said softly, offering her hand.

Leeza almost collapsed if not for the guard who helped her to the seat Catherine had pulled out for her. Her mother began shoving food after food down her throat, restoring some colour into her cheeks.

"And how does his wife fare?" She asked after the tenth mouthful.

"The fever will break soon," Mary said quietly, eating her soup. "She shouldn't indulge in drinking, that is all."

Leeza swallowed hard and nodded. "Very well," she whispered. "I will eat now."

"Good."

...

Mary scanned over the names over and over again. Relatives of hers and Francis's. Her first cousin, the son of her mother's younger brother, Henry I, Prince of Joinville and a cardinal, Charles de Bourbon.

She scoffed. _They_ were the leaders of the Catholic League? It could either go one of two ways, easy or hard. She hoped it would be easy to subdue them and keep them quiet.

"Your Majesty, they are here," one of her guards said.

"Let them in," she said, shifting on her throne.

They entered and bowed low before meeting her eyes.

"Henry Joinville, Charles Bourbon, welcome," she said firmly.

Henry nodded respectfully. "You know our relationship?"

"I do," she replied. "Cousin. And you as well, Cardinal Charles. You are most welcome."

Charles narrowed his eyes. "Why did you send for us?"

"His Majesty and I know that," she paused to meet him in the eyes. "You were funded by King Philip. The current king with whom we are warring with? The current king who is said to be converting to the same religion you _despise_?"

"Protestants dominate the nobility of France-"

"Yet your King and Queen are _Catholic_, and Catholicism will always remain France's official and majority faith," Mary cut Charles off. "You cannot condemn us for wanting peace in our countries. As long as there is no hostility, no bloodshed, we will not condemn people for their beliefs."

Henry sighed. "What do you want from us? Forgive my _hostility_," he asked her.

"Stand down," Mary said simply. "Stand down, accept lands to build whatever you wish and stop your revolt against the Protestants. They wish to live in peace, you should do the same. Or else action will be taken and I do not wish to imprison _family_."

"If 'family' is so important," Henry began. "Then why the threats? Why not do as we want?"

Mary chuckled wryly. "Who wears the crown?" She asked rhetorically. "Who has the guards? And the soldiers? And the fleets? Armies? Lands? I attend Church every day, I pray and pray and pray. I pray for _peace_. It does not matter how you worship, as long as the God I serve helps my King to preserve the peace. We are soon entering the Golden Age, gentlemen. Either you are with us or against us and I promise you, if you are against us... King Philip will fall and so will all your other financers."

"I'd rather be imprisoned," Henry said, standing his ground.

Mary sighed. "Cousin... Anti-Protestantism _and_ anti-Catholicism is an offence to the Crown. You are risking many lives. _Yours_. King Francis and I follow the ways of the Roman Catholic Church, the Pope himself is a firm believer in our France - since the days of Francis I of France when he remained loyal to the Papal States during his uncertain relationship with Henry VIII of England. Not once has France ever broken faith as England did. Even its former queen converted to Catholicism, her father's true religion. You cannot come here and talk _down_ at me, your Queen!"

"_Queen_," Charles drawled. "No longer 'cousin'?"

Mary glared at him. "If imprisonment is what you want, it is what you will get. In the Netherlands, innocent families are being burnt. As Catholics, we are good people, not evil and we do not justify our evil deeds by saying they have turned away from God! Guards, arrest them. Judgement day will come for you both."

She watched as the men were taken away and she sank in her seat, feeling dazed.

"Mary?"

Mary looked up and relaxed when she saw that it was Greer. "How is Kenna?"

"She's awake. I came to call you," she said softly. "But it looks like _you_ need someone."

Mary nodded, gesturing for Greer to take a seat beside her on the Dauphin's throne. Not Francis's, she couldn't bear that and she didn't want any superstitious things going through her head as they were with this pregnancy.

"You must take care of yourself," Greer chastised gently. "You cannot allow yourself to lose your temper. Stress will affect the baby."

"I know," Mary croaked out, sniffling. "I'm scared."

"Shh," Greer hushed her, reaching to take Mary's hands in hers. "No, you can't be. You are a _queen_, Your Majesty. You are Queen Regent of France. Her Consort has left the castle, not literally as you are seated before me, but you get what I mean. France looks to you now as well as Scotland, England and Ireland. The war will be over soon."

Mary looked at her warily. "And what would we have lost?"

"Nothing of great damnation," Greer replied. "We will all get through this."

"Yes," Mary whispered. "We will."

They left the hall, arriving at Kenna's bedchambers to find her resting in the middle of the bed. She still looked pale but there was colour in her cheeks. Her brown eyes were void of emotion and she slowly turned to face them.

"I see your fever has broke," Mary said for the people outside and Greer's sake.

Kenna nodded, unsure. "Nostradamus gave me something for it," she mumbled. "Can we talk? Alone?"

Greer left and Mary came to make herself comfortable beside Kenna, running her fingers through Kenna's twisted locks. She had not had a chance to wash her hair nor make herself presentable. Nothing seemed to matter.

Kenna's eyes fell. "I told Bash before he left that I'd know if something bad happened to him."

"Kenna?"

"My heart is broken, Mary," Kenna whispered numbly. "He's gone."

"Kenna, you mustn't think the worse-"

"Nostradamus told me. The link he had with Delphine, it came onto me upon her death," Kenna said with a sad smile. "Through her, our son is special. So special..."

Mary swallowed hard. "The Spanish fought harder than we expected. Sure, they were smaller but they had more power and I don't know what happened."

"What am I going to do?" Kenna asked Mary. "How am I going to do this? Raise four children without him? Would I need to get remarried? Secure our futures? Why do I keep having to build everything up-"

"Oh, my dear Kenna," Mary breathed out. "You don't need to remarry _anyone_ and him being gone does not mean you will lose everything. You are still family, his estates go to Robert when he returns. In his absence as well as Robert's, you are the claimant of Bash's wealth."

"Oh, God..."

Mary blinked back tears. "You have us. You will always have Francis and me. Greer and Lola even... We are all here for you and the children. I love you."

Kenna bit her lip. "I love you too."

...

Holland and Zeeland were easily claimed by the French. No bloodshed as William had said and they had been in talks with the high nobles for weeks for both provinces. They offered men to the cause, fed up of the burning and killing of their men, women and children.

A month later, in September now, Alkmaar had been invaded and they drove the Spanish out, Alba and his son running with their tails behind their backs. Alba was quickly replaced by Luis de Requesens following his humiliation. An Act of Abjuration had been formed, where the States-General declared that Philip was no king of theirs. This was to the French's advantage, the Netherlands were revolting and hearing of their presence in their country and now, they will fight for France.

Declaring was one thing but could they _fight back_?

Francis looked up from his wine to see William being granted entrance. He dismissed John and Robert, telling the boys to attend to the horses.

They got up, catching the start of William's words: "My brothers, Louis and Henry were killed at the Battle of Mookerheyde a few days ago. We lost the battle, Your Majesty..."

When they got to the horses, John noted that his cousin had been quiet of late. He looked withdrawn, worried, bereft. No time was good enough to call him out on it but now, it was. Away from Francis and other prying ears, John requested a short walk away from camp.

"You don't need to look so worried, Robin. We lose battles, it happens but we won't lose the war," John told his cousin.

Robin turned to him, his face now blank. "War is an evil thing."

"It is, ye-"

"It destroys lives," Robin continued, turning away. "Loyalties upon grey lines. Is it strange that we have not heard back from the Azores? It is a simple battle, in and out."

"Well-"

"Answer me that," Robin mumbled, digging his sword into the wet ground beneath them. It had rained now, the sunny months now over.

John shrugged. "Perhaps it was not necessary as we would have easily won," he replied. "Or do you know something I don't?"

"No," Robin admitted. "Just that I receive stares of late. Guards turn to me and quieten when I pass. They look... pitying."

"Do you think something bad has happened?"

Robin sat down, leaning his back against the tree. "I feel it. I just... _know_."

"Robin-"

"I've not heard from my mother either. I am surrounded by people but I feel _alone_," Robin continued. "I feel abandoned."

"I don't know what you're talking about," John began. "But I am right here with you. Come on, up."

He helped Robin to his feet and they returned back to camp, near the King's Tent.

"...My sons, Philip William and Maurice will arrive in due course," William was saying. "There are 25,000 crowns on my head."

Francis rubbed his chin. "We'll protect you. They won't dare-"

"They killed your half-brother and Strozzi."

"What?"

Francis turned to the opening of the tent to see his son and nephew, their eyes wide. "Robert Francis-"

But the boy had run off, John right behind him.

...

"Confinement?!" Mary cried out. "I do not have time for that!"

"You are eight months gone through this pregnancy, Mary! By November, you will give birth," Catherine told her daughter-in-law. "Should anything happen to you or this child, God forbid James coming to the throne so early, even as regent!"

Mary tutted, shoving the woman's arms away as she headed to her chambers, Lola and Greer hurrying behind Catherine and the governess. "How are the children?"

"We are doing all to protect the Dauphin," the governess said. "All of their Latin lessons are going well. And we have sourced a good tutor for the twins."

She hadn't seen them in a week, busy with the issues and politics of France. That and the leaders of the Catholic League being imprisoned indefinitely and their supporters on the verge of uprising.

"Catherine, deal with the League," Mary finally said, turning to the governess as the Queen Mother left their sides. "Make sure James's chambers are cleaned regularly. He is not to be taken unwell during my month of confinement."

"Yes, Your Majesty," the governess said.

"As for the girls, make sure they take their embroidery seriously with Bella and Kitty," Mary continued, the guards opening the doors for them. "Joseph and Peter are now to cease playing outside. The weather is getting colder and God forbid, Joseph is next in line."

The governess curtseyed low. "Your Majesty. And what of the de Poitiers children?"

Mary froze by the head of her bed. Kenna had been awfully quiet, going around in dark blue as if she was in mourning already. It had made Elisabeth spiral deeper into her faith manic, praying at _all_ hours without eating and Claude had taken to caring for Anastasia and Xander as well as her own son. They were not certain that death had come for Bash and Mary refused to believe otherwise for the women of her family's sakes and her absent husband's.

"Make sure their education is being tended to," Mary told her. "Make payments to their school and relieve the parents of the children who attend a whole year's fees. They work for Bash and in his absence, we must take care of his lands on Kenna's behalf."

Anything education-related, the governesses and governors could attend to - including payments and donations.

"I will right away, Your Majesty," Susanne replied before leaving.

"Now begins your confinement," Lola said gently. "We can't risk your healths."

Mary nodded and lifted her arms. "Help me out of this damned dress."

...

Francis hovered over the battle positions on the table, William to his left and his sons to his right. He had sent guards after the boys, preferring to handle that situation after.

"So, the treasure fleet has been fully destroyed?" He asked William with a small smile.

William nodded. "Yes. And inflation has got to Spain - Philip is unable to pay his soldiers."

Francis nodded. "We will end this war in the Netherlands, here in Antwerp as we divide and conquer - some troops going to Ham to destroy their garrison. We will claim the Netherlands once and for all, liberate its people and grant them aid for those who grieve over the ones they've lost in inhumane ways."

"Actions speak louder than words," Philip William said quietly, receiving a glare from his father.

Francis smirked. "I've spoken a lot in my time and in turn, things came to be. I once told my father that Calais would be ours again and I was right. He didn't believe me, but I did it. I fought alongside my men and we took back Calais."

"And he has done as he said he would," Maurice told his brother. "However, the case of the Azores..."

"It was shocking on our part," Francis admitted, swallowing hard. "I do hope my brother lives."

"I pray for your family," William told him before shifting the treasure fleet figurine off the table where it fell onto the ground. "Sunk and burned. As they did yours."

"All seventeen," Francis said proudly. "It is not over. I can see this lasting a year but if we play things right - we may be home by Christmastime."

"Your Majesty!"

A messager hurried in, bowing quickly as he took a moment to catch his breath.

"R-Rebels, Spanish rebels. The ones Philip can't p-pay," he cleared his throat. "They're coming! They're coming with the Spanish Fury!"

Francis froze. "Which direction?!"

"South in Namur!"

"We could appeal to them," William began. "Prevent bloodshed before-"

"Philip will kill them," Francis quickly said. "And once they find we are here, they could catch us off guard but we won't be caught off guard. We need to re-strategise."

"Or we could not bother," Maurice suggested. "Let the Spanish turn on themselves. We are north of Antwerp, many miles away from the south of it. We do not need to get involved if they should not make their way over."

William sighed. "Your Majesty, we should still make our way down. To Maastricht, Tournai, Oudenaarde, Dunkirk, Bruges and Ghent united through the Union of Utrecht. Invade them before Philip sends another zealot to get there first."

_Maurice or William? The son or the father? Both are on opposite sides of this matter_, Francis thought. _William has been a great help and I've only just met his sons. I do not know what to make of them..._

"William, send some spies to clear the path so to speak," Francis finally ordered. "We're taking those provinces."

"We need more funds to pay the soldiers," Philip William brought up. "What do we do?"

Francis gave him a look. "I have thought of that, contrary to belief," he began. "We have had an injection of money from England. Not only England, Italy as well. The Papal States are on our side - they want us to stop Philip for acting out evil work in their name, threatening to switch to Protestantism every other day."

"Then, we will meet the Spanish in the middle?" William asked.

"We will." He looked up and saw the guards directing John Philip and Robert Francis into the entrance of the tent. "If you would excuse us, gentlemen."

The men bowed and left, leaving John to come in first, Robin hesitant. Francis sent him a soft smile, holding out his hand to gesture for him to take a seat. He watched the boy look at it and then sigh, entering and taking a seat at the other end of the table. John sat on the side, between King and nephew.

"It's true?" Robin asked quietly.

"We have had no confirmation," Francis told him. "Only that there were men were missing. For all we know, your father could be making his way home. He has not been confirmed _dead_."

"I want to see the message-"

"I burnt it before it could reach enemy's hands," Francis explained quickly.

Robin sighed. "What am I to do?"

"We are at war, Robert," Francis said. "You are no longer a child. We suffer losses but now is not the time to grieve. The war must end and then we will see where we stand."

"I will fight on one condition."

"That is?"

"You have men go to the Azores and look for him," Robin told him firmly. "Him alive or dead, either way... we need him _home_."

Francis raised his eyebrows. The boy wasn't wrong. "Your aunt has already made moves towards that. She sent men to handle the repercussions of what occurred. They will be searching for our men to bring home for burial."

"Fine."

"You are the only boy who can make such a demand and have it granted," Francis said lightly, taking a seat and retrieving his lockets from his chest, looking through the portraits. "It's almost over, Robin. Never fear."

John gave his cousin a warm smile. "Shall we spar?"

"No," Robin said quietly. "I'd rather sit here in silence if it's all the same to you?"

Francis nodded. "I'd like that." At least he was surrounded by his son and his brother's likeness. He wasn't alone in the sea of strangers.

...

"Our Queen wants us to end the Catholic League!" Leith announced, holding up the letter which had Catherine's hand on it on Mary's behalf. "Our aim is to convert the people of this region back into French mentality. They are still French by blood and the king who reigns over them does not care for their welfare at all!"

There was an uproar of agreement.

"Today, we will help them, bring them _home_," Leith announced. "And put an end to the Spanish reign in France once and for all!"

Following a long negotiation with the people of the region, Leith had promised the people some expansion of land, a huge influx of money and other enticing offers that they could keep their word on.

The following morning after travelling to Fontaine-Française the night before, Leith followed his scouts and they had managed to encounter Spanish troops by accident.

He cursed.

"What should we do, my lord?" A scout asked.

"We should return and use the light horse tactic," Leith said.

And that is exactly what they did. Leith and his army had surprised the Spanish and forced them to retreat, killing or wounding nine-thousand Spaniards. Something told him that it would be a temporary fix and not permanent.

With the help of the local inhabitants, he was relieved they could convince the two-hundred odd men to fight with the promises he made, he had them armed with scythes and metallic objects that could shine in the sunlight.

"We have to regroup," he said, heading back to the rest of his army - military troops.

"What if they retrieve more men? We've lost twelve-hundred!"

"What would we do?"

"We had more men at the Azores, yet still lost!"

"Either way, we still have a third of their men!"

"Didn't we subdue nine thousand out of twelve?" Another asked.

Leith ordered them to be quiet, he couldn't _think_. "We have to trick them into believing we still have a larger army and attack with all we've got."

"Then what?"

"You know, we might not even have to fight," Leith told them, turning to look beyond in the valley to see if the Spanish were coming.

After hours, many hours, the Spaniards returned.

Both sides stood as they were, not daring a move.

Leith narrowed his eyes from atop his horse, watching Juan Fernández de Velasco watch him. After a while, the man raised a white flag and Leith's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his men cheering. They gave up.

They knew that Burgundy was a lost cause following the Frenchpeople of the region hating King Philip and supporting the French Throne. Leith gave a nod and watched as the Spanish troops retreated.

Burgundy was France's again.

Next, the Catholic League.

And they were the easy part.

...

William marched into the tent. "Now that we've taken Ham, massacring the Spanish garrison there and made our way down, liberating the towns as we go, I have word from France."

"Tell me," Francis said, dismissing Robin and John from the tent.

"Why can't we listen?" Robin muttered as they left.

"We're only boys," John replied. "I'm not sure I want to be an adult and have all of that on my shoulders."

Robin laughed softly. "I guess."

Inside the tent, William said, "They captured Amiens-"

"What?!"

"But your Deputy reconquered Amiens, was victorious in Burgundy and re-liberated Doullens, Cambrai and Le Catelet but..."

"Yes?"

"Calais was conquered."

Francis stood up. "_Calais_? As in the Calais that I reclaimed from England almost fifteen years ago?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Francis sighed heavily. "It is fine. We can deal with that after. We must focus on the fight at hand."

"About that - the Spanish troops have mutinied," Philip William announced, entering the tent. "It is so soon, we weren't expecting it. It's happening everywhere, the battle at Namur wasn't the first time it's happened and nor can they stop revolts from all over the Netherlands. Now is the time to continue to defeat the Spanish once and for all and throw Philip from his throne."

Francis nodded slowly but, "He can keep his throne. I just wanted France as a whole, Portugal to be liberated and the Netherlands... He can keep his throne but not without promises."

"Then it ends," William began. "Starting at Gembloux."

...

November 10th.

The screams started at three in the morning.

"Fetch the midwife!"

"Your Majesty-"

"Make sure she is comfortable!"

Mary couldn't make head nor tail who was speaking as she wailed, the pain tightening in her stomach. She writhed on the bed, sobbing and mentally begging Francis to come. She couldn't do this alone, not again. The twins had come into the world without his presence and now...

Now this child had the same fate.

"Lady Lola!" She heard Robert call out. "Make sure the children are alright. Lady Greer, attend to the Queen..."

Mary drowned out his voice as she could see a blurry blonde figure hover over her, speaking to her in soothing words. "It hurts, Greer," she cried out.

"I know, Mary," Greer said softly. "I have gone through it myself. So have you, five times before. You can do this."

"I can't...!"

"You can!"

"I want Francis!"

Greer brushed her hair back. "I know. I know, dear Mary. But you will just have to cope with me," she said, looking up to see the midwife enter with Nostradamus. "Wherever or however you need me to be, I will be so."

"Remain by her side," the midwife said gratefully, getting her tools out. "Your Majesty, your babe is coming quickly."

"Just get it out!" Mary cried out, squeezing Greer's hand tightly. "Get it out..."

The labour had lasted hours, finally ending come noon at seventeen minutes past twelve. The midwife lifted a screaming, pink and bloody babe from the Queen, quickly cutting the cord and wrapping the baby up warmly.

"What is it?" Mary breathed out, weakened by her last push.

"A princess, Your Majesty," Nostradamus told her. "Shall I let the family know?"

Mary nodded, accepting her newborn into her arms happily as he left. She pressed a long kiss on her head and turned to Greer. "I... I have good reason to wait to name her as I did for the twins but..."

"You have a perfect name in mind?" Greer finished for her.

Mary gave her a smile. "I guess Catherine should have reason to celebrate more than others."

"Oh, don't say-"

"Caterina. Aileen Caterina. For Aylee and for Catherine," Mary breathed out, staring down at her daughter's hazel eyes as her fingers coursed through the baby's strawberry blonde locks. "Hello, Little Cat. You are your father's daughter."

Caterina stared up at her mother in confusion, her mouth opening up into an 'o' as she yawned and squinted, quickly recovering and pouting.

"She needs feeding," the midwife explained, cleaning up. "We must deal with the afterbirth, Your Majesty."

"I will take Caterina," Greer said kindly, accepting the new baby into her arms. "Hello, my dear."

Word got through the castle quickly and soon, the elder children were hurrying to see their mother and new sister. Before the doors, Rose and Anne had to calm their brothers down before they opened the doors and entered, seeing their mother sitting on a seat by the window, the baby wrapped in white in her arms.

"Mother!"

"My darlings," Mary replied happily, using her head to gesture for them to come closer. "Meet your sister. Come, quick!"

James was the first to run over, gasping in awe at the wide-awake baby. He pointed down at her. "She is so small!"

Mary laughed, her eyes meeting her daughters'. "She is."

"Can I name her?" Peter asked, sticking his teddy under his arm as he and Joseph came to inspect their sister closer.

"I have already done that, my sweet," Mary said gently.

"So," Rose began, sitting at the bay window with Anne. "What did you name her?"

Mary looked at each child in the eye, the boys giggling at the suspense. "Aileen Caterina. Caterina is your new sister's name."

"Cat!" Joseph cried out. "Is she a cat?!"

"No, silly!" Anne scolded him lightly.

"Like Kitty. She's a cat!"

"No, Joseph," Anne said, now amused. "It's a nickname. A pet name, if you will. They are _not_ animals."

Joseph pouted. "That is not exciting at all."

"She is very quiet," Rose stated.

Mary laughed wryly. "You all gave me grief! I am glad one child is considerate," she replied teasingly. "Girls, do you wish to hold her?"

"May I?" Anne asked nervously. "I must practice for when I have Oskar's children."

Mary smiled and nodded, handing Caterina over. "Support her head. She can't hold it up as we can."

"She is so beautiful," Anne whispered in awe.

"More so than you," Rose replied.

Anne gasped. "I resent that! The older sisters are _always_ the most beautiful."

Mary chuckled, running her hand down Rose's head. "Don't tease your sister. I can't believe you are both now thirteen and twelve."

Rose blushed. "We are fast becoming women."

"You are already," Mary corrected them. "How is your monthly pain?"

Rose winced. She has started a few days ago, having advice from Anne. "Terrible."

"I will have Nostradamus make something for you," Mary replied.

They were disturbed by a knock on the door and she ordered the person to enter. It was a messenger who looked conflicted on whether to tell her the news in front of her children.

"Excuse me, my loves. I will be right back," Mary said, getting up and letting James take her seat as they all continued to coo at the newborn. Mary could read the messenger's face and followed him out. "What is it?"

"The Burgundy troops have returned. The King's Deputy was taken to the healer immediately," he explained.

Mary sighed. "How bad is he?"

"He had a wound on his arm inflicted by a Catholic League member they put down, it became infected. During their journey back, they made the decision to amputate."

Mary gasped softly. "I see. I will see him when he has recovered. Any news from the King?"

"Only that the war drags on," he said. "I wish I had more information."

"What of the troops sent to the Azores?"

"They managed to retrieve wounded and deceased men but..."

_None with green eyes and the crest of the Valois-Angoulême_, Mary thought. "The King's brother wasn't retrieved?"

"His body may be lost to the sea as his ship was sunk," the messenger offered. "I... I'm sorry-"

"It's fine," Mary said. "Leave me."

He bowed and left quickly, not wanting to say something else wrong. Not that it was wrong.

Mary sighed heavily, covering her face. Kenna was in confinement, her children unaware of their difficult situation, Mary had no idea what to do.

She returned to her bedchambers with a bright smile on her face as she walked back to her children.

...

_So bright_. Everything was so _bright_.

Eyes scanned the room, seeing it littered with papers and candles, an elderly person in the corner, by a desk and muttering to themself. He frowned and sat up, emitting a slight groan from the tight scar on his chest.

"You're awake!"

He jumped, looking up to see that the person was a man and he grinned a gap-teethed smile his way, offering him soup and some bread.

"How..." His voice was scratchy, unused. "Long was I...?"

"I found you two months ago, washed ashore," the elderly man explained. "I stitched your wound up and since then, you've been in and out of consciousness. Today, you are fully aware."

"I see..."

"Muriel," the elderly man said. "My name is Muriel, my Lord. You look like a highborn. Are you?"

He groaned. "My head hurts."

"That would be the bump on your head. I keep my pots on the shelf above you," Muriel said, the man looking up to see for himself. "One fell on you last night when you jolted awake, screaming some poor girl's name."

"What name?"

Muriel paused, pursing his lips in thought before clicking his tongue and snapping his fingers. "Kenna. 'Kenna!' You had cried out. Not French native nor Portuguese. You sound French. Are you one of the soldiers who tried to liberate us?"

_Tried to..._?

"You lost. Badly, may I add," Muriel muttered. "We still are under Philip of Spain."

"Oh. I... apologise?"

"It's fine! We're planning another revolt, my Lord," Muriel said nonchalantly. "My son's fighting. I might fight. Give these two," he showed him his sagging muscles. "A reappearance. So many wars these arms have seen."

"Right..." The man drawled out. "So, that name?"

Muriel gasped. "Right, yes! That name sounds very _Scottish_. Like the Queen, the one in France. Oh, the lovely woman had a baby. Did you know that?"

"From your words, I have been coherent only today," the man grumbled out. "Wait... Queen in France. I-I know her?"

"You do?" Muriel asked. "Oh! You _are_ French noble blood. Right. Kenna, Queen in France... What else to see what you remember?"

The man shrugged. "I-I don't know."

"Oh, come on!"

"I don't-" He stopped himself, feeling a sudden rush of sharp pain in his head.

"What is it? What do you remember?"

The man's eyes widened. "What month are we in?"

"Almost December, my Lord. Two days time, it will be," Muriel replied.

"I need to get home."

"Where is that?"

"The Queen in France - she will know. Her name... Her name... I can't..."

"Mary. Her name is Mary," Muriel said indignantly. "The most pretty queen you've had, mind you!"

If not for his predicament, the man would be roaring with laughter at the idea of this old man holding a torch for Mary.

"Yes," he breathed out instead. "Mary Stuart. I, for the life of me, can't remember much."

"Do you have a family?" Muriel asked, stuffing the bread into the man's hand.

"I..." The man gasped. "I do."

"Here we go. We are getting some-"

"Kenna."

"Oh, the name from before?"

The man nodded, a soft smile gracing his lips. "She will kill me."

"What?!"

"I need to go home to her."

"No... I think you should very well stay!" Muriel cried out. "She will kill you! Is she a _spy_?"

The man frowned. "No, you fool, she's my _wife_!"

"Oh... Why does she want to kill you?"

"Because I didn't come home."

"You're not making any sense, my Lord."

"Please, it's _Bash_." Bash gasped. "I'm Bash. My name is Bash."

"I think so?" Muriel asked, confused. "Should I applaud you for remembering your name?"

Bash glared at him. "Muriel, thank you for your hospitality but I need to get home to France."

"And how would you set about that?" Muriel asked, stuffing a spoonful of soup into his mouth.

Bash gaped at him. "I thought that was for..."

"It was getting cold. Waste not, want not," Muriel replied nonchalantly. "Now, tell me how you're going to get home."

...

On the 24th of December, Christmas Eve, Mary looked out the window, hopeful to see her husband return.

Nothing.

She turned to see Kenna fast asleep, a newborn babe in a cot beside the bed. Mary stood and went over to the baby to see that she was wide awake. She smiled, lifting her into her arms and cooing when she began to fuss.

"There's a good girl," she whispered as to not wake the mother. "Born on Christmas Eve at five in the morning. Your father's spitting image."

"Sophia," she heard.

Mary looked up and saw Kenna's eyes open a little as she continued to lay down, watching aunt and niece. "Sophia?"

"Sophia," Kenna confirmed quietly, a tear slipping down her face. "Sophia Sebastienne Francine."

"Three names, hmm?" Mary asked lightly, looking down at the baby's green eyes.

"Can you take her to the nursery?"

Mary looked at her. "She needs to be with her mother."

"I can't," Kenna whispered. "Not right now. She looks just like him."

"Kenna-"

"And she won't fill the empty hole in my heart."

Mary's lips wavered and she placed the baby back into the cot and returned to the window. "Don't do that."

"It's been months, Mary. We only know of Francis's and our sons' survival," Kenna said. "All that is left is to return home. And they will. But Bash won't. When Francis returns, I'd like to start the funeral planning."

"Take more time-"

"Mary?"

"Yes?" Mary asked, turning to face Kenna.

"I don't feel... I don't feel too..." Kenna's eyes fluttered closed and Mary hurried to her, feeling her forehead heating up.

The afterbirth.

"Guards! Get the midwife and Nostradamus!" She cried out, covering Kenna's frame with the covers. "Oh, Kenna... Don't do this to me, to us..."

...

A day later, the fever still had not broken although they had managed to retrieve the afterbirth through traumatic and bloody circumstances that made Mary throw up.

Catherine had comforted her, seeing the strong wall that the Scottish Queen had built start to break. "You must remain strong."

"Catherine-"

"Every battle is over. We have won the war," Catherine reminded her. "They are coming home. Our Francis is coming home."

Mary sniffled and nodded, straightening her back. "It's only a matter of when."

"Exactly. Patience is a virtue. Good things come to people who wait."

Mary walked on, heading to the nursery to check on the new babies. They had moved Sophia from her mother's side, giving the ailing woman more space to recover.

"Perhaps we should allow the Pope to say a few words," Catherine said carefully.

"No. No last rites-"

"Mary-"

"It's happened before and she survived!"

"Mary-"

"No. I forbid any talk of death. In fact, the next person to even suggest or allude to the idea will be forbidden to talk for the next full day!"

Catherine scoffed. "Immature," she said lightly, making Mary roll her eyes. "We should attend Mass. It _is_ Jesus's birthday. And today is about family. Let us put up a united front for the people, you and the children attending the Christmas Mass."

Mary nodded slowly. "Yes. That seems wise."

...

The choir stopped singing when the doors were flung open. Everyone turned around and gasped.

"It is a Christmas miracle," Catherine muttered, a smile forming on her lips as Claude and Leeza also let out warm smiles.

But they weren't important.

No, the Queen was.

Mary slowly turned around to see what they were gawping at and she gasped herself. Before she could move, the children had begun to run, forgetting their royal courtesies and behaviour to attack Francis with tight hugs.

"The King has returned!"

"The King has returned!"

"All hail the King!"

"Our victorious King!"

Francis looked up from the children, meeting Mary's eyes. She daren't move and he smiled, receiving a grin in reply as she looked down in her arms. He looked down and he was immediately transfixed by the image of his seventh child.

"Make way! The King is walking down!"

Joseph and Peter each took one of Francis's hands and pulled him down the aisle, the girls and James running ahead of them to reach Mary first.

"Husband," she breathed out, shaking.

Thankfully, Francis took the baby into his arms and grinned even more. "Wife," he replied in kind. "We did it."

_Now_ the war was over.

The choir promptly began to sing again, Mary's eyes never leaving Francis's own. She still couldn't quite believe it, here he was in the flesh, his clothing appropriate for the celebrations. Her cheeks were beginning to hurt and she realised she hadn't stopped smiling since she saw him.

"I love you," she mouthed to him before James took her attention and she lifted him up into her arms as Leeza carried Peter and Joseph held his sisters' hands.

"I love you too, Mary," Francis whispered into her ear, placing a kiss on the side of her head.

...

The door opened slowly and Kenna's eyes drew to it. It was Nostradamus.

"How are you feeling?"

"At death's door," Kenna whispered. "Is it Christmas already?"

"Everyone is at Church," he explained before a smile graced his lips. "We have much to celebrate this year." Then his face fell. "And of course, to-"

"Grieve," she mumbled.

"Your Grace-"

"I'm going to see him, Nostradamus," Kenna cut him off, her eyes watering. "He's so close."

Nostradamus hovered over her, feeling her head. She was getting worse. "My Lady, you cannot die."

"Nostra-"

"If you are still breathing after all of these months, it means that he is alive!" Nostradamus cried out. "You cannot give up, you mustn't."

"I can't hold on much longer," Kenna told him, a sob escaping her lips. "I can feel... death is coming."

He quickly shoved a liquid down her throat, hoping it would help break the fever soon. "It is Christmastime, your children want to see you." _All of them_, he thought.

Kenna shook her head. "I don't want them to remember me like this. I saw my mother die... No child should-"

The door opened and Kenna turned to it, seeing _green eyes_.

"Bash! You came home to me!"

"No, Mama. It's me, it's Robin," Robin quickly said, coming to her side to take her hand in his hands. "Oh, Mama!"

Kenna studied him closely. "Oh. Sweetrobin... You are your father's image. His greatest gift to me," she said softly, cupping his cheek. "You've made me so proud."

Robin closed his eyes, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Don't leave us too."

"Robert Francis, look at me," Kenna ordered gently. When he did she said, "You are a _man _now. You are strong, noble, kind... Once your annulment is complete, you are to marry your true love but _only_ when you are sixteen. You are thirteen now, still my sweet, innocent child..."

"Mother-"

"Your uncles and aunts will take good care of you all," Kenna continued weakly. "Oh, you look just like him."

"Mama, _please_."

Nostradamus turned away. "Shall I call the Pope?"

"No," Kenna whispered, running her fingers through Robin's hair. "If I die with my son's face in my mind, I'll be at peace soon enough."

"Your Last Confession?"

Kenna smiled wryly, continuing to stare at Robin. "I will take my chances."

"Mama-"

"Just... Tell me a story, Robin. The one about the time you and your father went hunting and ended up in the tree," Kenna said softly.

Robin laughed, a sob escaping his lips. "The bear."

"Yes. That one."

"Father _swore_ he wasn't scared but I knew he was trying to convince himself so he could protect us..."

Before he continued on, Kenna's hand fell from his face and he let out a heartbroken scream, hugging her tightly.

"My Lord-"

"No," Robin croaked out, digging his face into her shoulder. "No!"

Robin placed a hand on her heart and kissed her forehead, leaning his against hers. He closed his eyes and began to pray, until the words became more hurried, more _Pagan_.

Nostradamus gasped. "Is he...?" He breathed out in wonder, staring at the boy in shock. He knew those incantations. He wanted to know _how_ the boy knew them. He knew Bash raised his children as Catholics, they never encouraged his Pagan ties with Robin.

He looked at the door, going over to lock it before anyone could come in and he looked back at the son and his mother, the boy continuing to speak quickly. Before he knew it, Nostradamus saw Kenna's eyes snap open in shock, turning to her son.

Robin stopped now, his eyes still screwed shut as he sobbed now. "Come back to me..."

"Robin, I'm here," she whispered, bringing him into her arms properly, kissing his head. "I don't know how, but I'm here."

"Mama..."

Her eyes met Nostradamus and she swallowed hard. "He... Did he-"

"Yes."

"No one should know about this," she breathed out firmly. "Fetch my handmaidens, please."

"I should at least check you over-"

"I know what happened," she cut him off. "And it will _never_ happen again. In fact, do you know of ways to... to make him..."

_Normal_? Nostradamus understood her fear. If anyone heard of a woman dying only to be brought back to life, they'd kill him just as they did his father's former lover. The woman in white, the witch who had killed servants to perform blood rituals.

"I'm sorry," Robin said, pulling back in shock. "I couldn't lose you too-"

"I understand," she quickly said, giving him a small smile. "But Robert... Your powers are quickly honing and without your father or anyone to _guide_ you... I can't take any risks with you. Where did you learn how to do that?"

Robin turned away. "The war. A rabbit had been preyed on by a fox. I saved its life and saw the fox drop dead."

A life for a life.

Kenna braced herself for whoever's death was coming. She hoped it wasn't her queen and her family. "You are to never do this again. We will find out information, try and-"

"Mother, this is a part of me! Something from Father's true faith-"

"His true faith was Catholic!" Kenna cried out before quickly quietening down. "No one, and I mean, _no one_ knows of his Pagan ties. Do you understand? If they did, they will..."

Robin slowly nodded. "Kill me and my siblings?"

"Indeed, child," Nostradamus said. "And your mother for keeping the secret. And then they will turn to the King and Queen and ask them if they knew as well."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry-"

"Hush," Kenna breathed out, hugging him again. "It's Christmas. We should smile and be thankful for those who still remain."

Nostradamus' eyes met hers and he gave her a comforting nod. _He is still alive as you are not dead_.

"Thank you," she mouthed to him before he left to fetch her handmaidens. "Oh, my Sweetrobin..."

...

The first day of the new year.

Francis downed the rest of his wine and placed it down on his desk, turning to face Leith. "How is your pain?"

Leith smiled wryly. "I'll survive. It is odd. My body believes there to be two, full arms but there is only one and I feel the pain from the one I lost. I apologise if I can't carry out my duties as-"

"Don't be stupid," Francis said fondly. "I have hired Junior Deputies. My nephew wishes to be one, to honour his father."

"Have we still not received word?"

"No," Francis said sadly. "Such is life. William of Orange was assassinated before we left. His sons helped us put an end to the war - the Dutch Republic is now recognised as independent by the Spanish Crown and Philip is meeting us to sign new treaties of peace. The Roman Empire is on France's side, he has surrendered."

Leith nodded. "I read the reports. 700,000 people dead."

"The Spanish will pay for their crimes of war."

"Can they even afford it?"

Francis smirked. "They'll ask for a loan," he said, pouring another cupful of wine. "We will grant it with strings attached."

"What happens after?"

"He returns to Spain, the Netherlands are declared independent from French rule - we were never going to keep them, they deserve their freedom. As for the Azores, we will ask for that in return for the loan as well as Calais," Francis explained, taking a seat with a heavy grunt. "Those beds were not comfortable."

"Relieved for your luxuries as a king?" Leith teased him.

Francis chuckled. "I am not denying that. Thank you, my friend. For always being there for me."

"I will never leave your side willingly."

"Good. Because I have a duchy to gift you. And a marriage proposal," Francis told him coyly.

Leith raised his brows. "Marriage?"

"My sister is widowed," Francis said. "Claude needs a husband and she is alone in Scotland. It is time she came home for good."

Leith smiled widely. "I accept if she does."

"She does and so does her son. He likes you."

"I adore him," Leith breathed out. "Thank you, Your-"

"Leith..."

"Francis." Leith laughed. "God, you survive a war and come home to a wife and son."

Francis grinned. "Well, I came home to a baby who was already a month old. And I swear my eldest is taller than her mother!"

"Children. Such blessings."

"They are, indeed."

...

"Elisabeth?"

She turned around to face her former husband. "Why are you in here? You are supposed to be in the hall, awaiting my brother and king."

"I had to see you-"

"No," she snapped. "You are to blame for my brother's death! Sebastian's dead because of you!"

Philip sighed, bowing his head. "Darling-"

"Philip," she warned him, her eyes narrowing.

"Elisabeth," he tried again. "I wanted to protect you! Word of you being barren and unable to bear me a son after our stillbirth got around Court. There were whispers reported of you paying the price with your life through poison!"

"Forgive me if I do not believe a word that comes out of your mouth," Leeza replied coldly.

Philip shook his head slightly. "I will never stop loving you. You are my true wife - you gave me sane children, my daughters. My daughters who I will always love and cherish more than the children Anna will bear me. I have got a son now - he came early, but my love for him is less than the love for Kitty and for Bella."

"I will always protect _my_ daughters," Leeza said. "In fact, I am prepared to remarry a Frenchman this time. He adores the girls and they adore him. A father's love can never outmatch a mother's love for a child. I held them in my womb and birthed them, my pain was our gain and I will never give them up."

"I beg you for forgiveness," he breathed out. "A king begging, Elisabeth you could only get that from me."

"Leave-"

"Return to Spain. Become my official mistress-"

Leez scoffed and started to laugh in incredulity. "No! My place is here in France, our daughters' places are in France. The king we serve? He is my _brother_. Not my husband. Because of you, your people hate my people and the same can be said vice versa. Spain is dangerous for a French."

Philip bowed his head. "Then can I at least write frequently? As friends? To see how our daughters fare?"

"Maybe one day," Leeza told him. "But now, our relations between our two counties are hostile."

"Never say never, my darling."

"Goodbye, Philip," Leeza replied, turning away from him. "Goodbye."

And then he was gone from her life forever.

...

As well as the treaty between France and Spain, the French graciously hosted the treaty between the Netherlands and Spain. Peace was to be restored.

The States-General sent eight delegates from several of the provinces. They were Willem van Ripperda (Overijssel), Frans van Donia (Friesland), Adriaen Clant tot Stedum (Groningen), Adriaen Pauw and Jan van Mathenesse (Holland), Barthold van Gent (Gelderland), Johan de Knuyt (Zeeland), and Godert van Reede (Utrecht). The Spanish delegation was led by King Philip himself.

Francis faced Philip and their Cardinals presented a treaty on the table before them. Francis offered Philip to sign the Treaties of Pyrenees and Vervins first as he was the guest in his lands. Philip signed his signatures and Francis lifted his own pen, elegantly signing beside Philip's own signatures on each paper.

Leeza gave Mary a relieved smile and Mary returned it and was surprised when Francis told her to sign them too. It even surprised Philip but he bit his tongue and nodded politely, his wife placing a calming hand on his forearm.

The Queen stood between the kings and signed her signatures underneath Francis's. They were equal and technically, she was still Queen of Scotland and must be appropriately considered as such. These treaties now declared peace between Spain, France and Scotland as well as any countries or provinces underneath them.

Calais and Burgundy were once again French-ruled. The Azores now belonged to France with the promise of independence after five years so they could aid the people in rebuilding their home and make sure they were stable enough to be independent. The Netherlands were loyal to France with their Protestants swearing oaths to Francis and Mary. The leaders of the Catholic League had been released and their wishes granted in return for their disbandment and promise to never revolt again with the Edict of Nantes signed by the French King and representatives for Catholics and Protestants, declaring a high degree of religious toleration for the Huguenots.

Peace.

Francis would be famous for this for years to come.

"Now, we feast! Music commence!" Francis announced, lifting his wine cup.

Music promptly began and dancers took the centre of the hall, everyone now conversing and collecting food and drinks. Laughter, tears of joy, animated stories everywhere and Francis quickly winked at his wife.

"Want to sneak out of here?" He asked into her ear.

"Francis!" Mary squealed out quietly. "We should at least wait a few hours."

Francis chuckled. "There was me wanting to get you with our seventh already."

"Still so broody! The time hasn't done me any wonders then!" Mary laughed, spotting John and Lola hugging tightly. "I'm glad they've fixed their relationship."

"Hmm," Francis hummed before his eyes drew to the entrance of the hall. "I thought you said that Kenna was still unwell?"

"She was," Mary said, a smile gracing her lips.

But there the woman was, dressed in dark blue, almost black with an ornate headpiece on top of her head and her best jewels, gifts from her husband. She greeted nobles politely, accepting condolences and well wishes as well as congratulations on her over a week old baby. She looked petrified underneath, the poor thing and she seemingly calmed down when Robin took her arm, Ana her other hand and Xander running off to find James and the twins.

"I still can't believe it," Francis mumbled, taking a seat on his throne beside an occupied Philip who was conversing with his wife, Anna of Austria. The woman seemed disinterested.

Mary sat beside him on her throne. "Christmas had a miracle. You returned and Kenna's fever had broke. Would the new year be as kind?"

"I don't know, my love," Francis replied, lifting his cup in acknowledgement of the Castleroys. "How is Caterina?"

"Perfect," Mary said with a smile. "Finally happy to meet her father."

"I've not left the children's sides in days... I ought to focus on political matters for a bit," he replied.

Mary chuckled softly. "We should take a break. Isolate ourselves from Court and spend time as a family before you take over the reins again. Aren't you relieved I didn't have the country burning down whilst you were gone?"

Francis kissed her hand. "I'm proud of you. Our people love you."

"Oh, they do?" Mary asked dubiously, but with a tone of amusement underneath.

He smiled. "They do," he promised her. "You dealt with the League appropriately."

"It was mostly Catherine."

"But you sent the orders," Francis said. "Delegation, sweetheart and I will..." He looked around before whispering something into her ear with made her blush and bite her lip. "Alright?"

"You better keep your word," she replied, turning to face him casually as if they had not just spoken about their bedchamber activities.

"I should offer Kenna a dance," Francis said quietly, watching as she spoke to Robin, tenderly rubbing his back.

"Why don't I?"

Francis turned to Philip. "You?"

"Yes," Philip replied. "Offer my sincerest condolences. She is your brother's widow, is she not?"

"You would do better to stay away from her," Elisabeth said, taking the words out of her brother's mouth. But for the public, "She must be still so awfully tender and sensitive. Not long gone through labour, almost perished trying to deliver the afterbirth and now continuing to grieve her beloved husband... The King of France will be better suited."

"Go," Mary told her husband.

Francis rose from his seated position and went over to Kenna and Robin. "It's good to see you well," he said and turned to Robin. "Robert Francis."

"Your Majesty."

"May I steal your mother away for a dance?"

Robin nodded. "You may." He left and found John and Lola.

Kenna tentatively accepted Francis's hand and allowed herself to be led to the dancefloor. Normally, she'd love dancing and parties and drinking and laughing. But no, she couldn't. Not now. If Nostradamus was speaking the truth, then where was he?

"I never got the chance to speak to you when I returned," he began as they glided across the floor, eyes on them.

"I haven't spoken to many people lately," was her reply.

"You will always be family, Kenna. Whatever you need, you just need to ask. We will grant it to you."

Kenna scoffed softly. "I need my husband. Can you grant me that?"

"Kenna, I-"

"I am not feeling so well," she mumbled. "I need to rest. Perhaps even check on Sophia. Excuse me."

She curtseyed and left quickly, tears stinging her eyes.

Francis turned to Mary, shrugging slightly. "I think I said the wrong thing," he mumbled when he sat back down. "I see Greer has gone after her."

"And today was meant to be happy..." Mary replied just as quietly.

"It is," Francis told, kissing her knuckles. "My love, it's a new year, everything will be alright."

...

"_This_ is the French Court?"

Bash turned to Muriel as their horses continued to ride closer to the gates. "Yes."

"I'm glad you remembered everything. Sorry about the pot, although that was _your_ fault," Muriel said. "If not for you remembering, I would never have the chance to meet the Queen!"

"Your infatuation with her is strange," Bash said, chuckling.

"She's beautiful, clever and cunning! Oh, and Scottish-French," Muriel explained. "What is not to be infatuated with?"

Bash snorted. Wouldn't the man like to know? "She's my sister-in-law."

"I still can't believe you are the King's brother."

"You better. We are here now," Bash replied, getting off his horse and leading it to the guards.

The guards eyed him warily before recognition dawned in their faces and they bowed.

"Someone's got some power!" Muriel cried out jokingly.

"Y-Your Grace, w-welcome-"

"Just open the gates," Bash said, almost rolling his eyes.

The gates were quickly lifted and Bash led Muriel in from the back, not wanting to hear the gasps or talks of him probably rising from the dead. He led them up the stairs, heading to his bedchambers.

"There's a feast, a grand affair it seems," Bash began to his companion. "I will change my clothes, freshen myself up and..."

As he rounded the corner, he saw his wife being chased down by her brother and he stopped, breathless.

...

"Kenna, wait!"

"What is it?" Kenna snapped, turning to face Robert. "I'm tired, Robert. I just want to be in peace."

Robert sighed. "Seeing as you are in low spirits... I received a letter from Paisley's husband. She's dead, Kenna."

Kenna froze, but her face showed no emotion. "I see. How?"

"Consumption," Robert replied. "I was hoping to tell you tomorrow after you began funeral plans for your husband."

"Is he able to fund the funeral for her?"

"I was planning to send 4000 crowns."

Kenna bit her lip. "Make that ten. I'll foot the 6000. And make sure her children's education is taken care of."

"You're not... surprised or saddened about the news?"

Kenna smiled wryly. "My heart is already broken, there are no more tears left to cry. Excuse me."

"Kenna," Robert began. "I never knew you were one to give up so easily."

"It's been months, Robert," Kenna snapped. "Almost six months since it happened. Miracles do not exist."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that."

Kenna almost collapsed but her brother held her, his own eyes widening at the sight of Bash.

"You bastard..." Kenna breathed out, her tears slipping down her cheeks.

"I thought you had no more tears left to cry, wife."

Kenna glared at him but then her gaze softened and she pushed her brother away so she could walk up to Bash, make sure that he was real. And there was only one way she could think of to prove that.

She slapped him. Hard.

"Ow!"

"I'm going to _kill_ you! And then we will really need that funeral planning!" Kenna cried out, wrapping her arms around his neck and sobbing.

"I kept my prom-"

"Shut up, Bash," she snapped, before laughing. "You came home to me."

Bash smiled, tightening his grip. "As if I would ever stay apart form you willingly."

"So... is anyone going to direct me to a lovely gold chamberpot?"

They turned to see Muriel giving them an impatient look.

"Who is that?" Robert asked his sister's question.

"The bane of my life. Wife, brother-in-law, meet Muriel. The man who saved my life," Bash said. "Muriel, this is my wife, the Archduchess of Avon, Kenna. That is her brother, Duke Robert Beaton."

Muriel bowed respectfully. "It is lovely to meet you both. I am the man who saved his life and the man who is desperate to empty his aged bladder."

"Oh, right," Robert said. "I will direct you and find servants to dress you in something more... fitting."

"What is wrong with my clothes?"

They all glanced at his tattered, brown robes.

"Not very party-appropriate," Kenna said, laughing a little.

"Oh," Muriel said. "Would this mean I get to meet the Queen?"

"And the King!" Kenna told him. "To pay you for saving my husband's life. He would be most grateful and so am I." She turned to Bash. "Darling, we should offer him a reward-"

"For the past month, he's worn my ear off and now I have to pay him for that?" Bash asked lightly. "Very well. Let's get dressed first and return to this later."

...

"Dance with me, Francis!" Mary told her husband when she saw him starting to brood. They were full, their cups never-ending.

Francis smiled at his wife's enthusiasm and nodded, getting up and offering her his hand. They walked over to the dance floor as the next dance began. He loved her, the feeling of her smaller hand in his, perfect fit. She completed him and he couldn't do anything without her.

He spun her around and when she stopped, her back landed flush against his chest and he kissed her cheek gently before she twirled out of his grip, her dress flying. Then she spun back to him, the back of her hand hovering over his cheek as his own hand hovered over hers, both breathless, eyes dilated. The dance was a sensual one and it wasn't helping the sexual tension already present between them.

He had to have her.

Luckily enough, the dance ended and they excused themselves, citing that they needed to wish their youngest child goodnight. They were almost free until they ran into another couple upstairs.

"Oh, dear God!" Mary cried out, a hand on her heart.

"Bash?!"

Bash raised his eyebrows. "Busy, are we?"

"You're-You're alive!" Francis breathed out, bringing Bash into a tight hug as tears stung his eyes. "You're alive. Oh, God, I knew it. I knew you wouldn't be dead!"

"Apparently, I am dead," Bash replied lightly. "We were going to join the festivities. Let people believe they are losing their sanity by seeing a ghost."

Francis shook his head with a laugh, pulling away to look at the women. "Forget the party. I have a better idea instead to celebrate."

And that's how they ended up in the gardens, bottles of champagne, dancing in the snow and stolen kisses between couples under the moonlight. Despite all being parents, they felt like the children themselves tonight, playing tag and throwing snowballs at each other.

Peace.

Mary closed her eyes and inhaled the deep fresh air into her nostrils.

"Do you think they'll notice if we finally had a moment to ourselves?" Francis whispered in one ear, moving to the other. "If I took you and made love to you all night long?"

Mary shivered, tilting her head to the side slightly so he could kiss her neck and wrap his arms around her slimming waist. Her fingers curled into his locks and she could feel the snow become to take effect on her body.

"Warm me up?" She replied huskily.

She could feel his kiss on the back of her neck and she beamed, her eyes snapping open. Soon after, he led her back inside and to their bedchambers.


	68. A Family For The Queen

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**Guest (1) [chapter 67]: I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter to make it the best, haha! I can never do you guys dirty when it comes to Kennash. I love all the tears, haha! I have more Frary moments coming up because I am OBSESSED with their marriage and teasing. My man hasn't had his wife in so long, he is thirsty and broody, haha! The Frary/children moments will come in the next chapter as this is a filler leading to that, Mary was right - they need time together. And yes! The girls will spend time with their new sister and if you go to chapter 60 or thereabouts, Anne was begging for another sister so, we'll have more Anne/Rose/Caterina moments.**

**Guest (2) [chapter 67]: I'm sorry for making you cry! I made my friends cry and they now hate me, haha! You're very welcome, I spent a long time on it as chapters 65 to now was all one chapter at first then I broke it up and made chapter 67 two separate chapters before joining them together again because I wanted it to flow and have a lot of plot/details in it. I got you all in the Kennash and Frary feels, hehe and Leith... we get to explore more Leith/Claude moments soon. Indeed, we will welcome Caterina and in fact, I have her details along with Sophia's and all the kids' below. The girls will be back in the next chapter! Francis does feel closer to the boys and Mary to the girls but that will be rectified in the next chapter.**

**elder441 [chapter 67]: Thank you! I'm glad it was!**

**John (Francis's eldest child and son) - (birthday, can't remember lol) 14**

**Anne (Francis and Mary's eldest child together and first daughter), 17th June - 13**

**Robin (Bash and Kenna's eldest child and first son), 8th August - 13**

**Rose (Francis and Mary's second child and second daughter), 25th Mary - 12**

**James (Francis and Mary's third child and first son together), 30th January - We are now in early January so he is 6 going 7.**

**Anastasia (Bash and Kenna's second child and first daughter), 13th February - currently 6 but will be 7 within the year.**

**Lawrence (Claude's only child), 27th February - currently 5 but will be 6 within the year.**

**Joseph (Francis and Mary's fourth child and second son together), 1st April - currently 5 but will be 6 within the year.**

**Peter (Francis and Mary's fifth child and third son together), 1st April - currently 5 but will be 6 within the year.**

**Alexander (Bash and Kenna's third child and second son), 21st July, currently 5 but will be 6 within the year.**

**Aileen Caterina (Francis's and Mary's sixth child and third daughter), 10th November - soon to be two months old.**

**Sophia Sebastienne Francine (Bash and Kenna's fourth child and second daughter), 24th December - about a week old.**

****Just got come couply moments and siblings moments and uncle/nephew moments and father/son moments in this chapter. We're feeling the all the Valois/de Poitiers/de Medici family feels in this chapter basically!****

* * *

"Francis," Mary breathed out. "Slow down."

He stopped, fingers frozen on her laces. "What is it?"

Mary turned her head to look at him. "You're too _quick_. I want to cherish every second. I missed you and I don't want this moment to end so soon."

He laughed, hugging her from behind. "You do realise I've wanted to have my way with you for _hours_?"

"Yes..." She drawled out. "But I'm here. I'm not leaving your side anytime soon so we can make every single second last."

"I love you so much."

"I love you so much too," Mary replied, turning in his arms to face him. "My handsome king..."

Francis blushed. "Stop it."

"Now, he's so modest?" Mary teased him, kissing the tip of his nose. "How am I so lucky?"

"I ask myself that every day."

Mary beamed. "_Now_, you can start undoing my laces," she said, turning back around and shifting her hair to the side. "Slowly does it."

Francis playfully rolled his eyes, undoing lace by lace at a slow pace. "Is it to Her Majesty's liking?"

"Mhm," she hummed, biting her lip seductively. "Now pull my dress off. Slowly."

"Oh, God..."

By the time her corset, dress and everything else was removed from her body, Mary could tell Francis's patience was running thin. She turned and began to work on his clothes, the speed still controlled and _slow_.

Francis tried to steal a kiss but she pulled back and gave him a wink. "Minx."

"As I said, there's a time for everything. Just be patient," she replied. "I want to make sure this moment's real. That you're here and I'm touching you..." She looked up into his eyes. "I want to feel _loved_ with every touch."

Francis brushed her hair from her eyes and smiled softly. "Alright. We will do this your way."

Mary tiptoed and placed a light kiss on his lips. "There's your reward for being patient so far..."

"We've got all the time in the world."

...

"Kenna-"

"Forget about the party," Kenna breathed out, cupping her husband's cheeks. "My hair's a mess, my dress is soaked and I'm freezing cold and in need of someone to warm me up."

Bash chuckled, kissing her. "I've got a guest in there and it would be rude to leave him all alone."

"Robert's dealing with him," Kenna said dismissively, nipping at his ear. "He can join us for breakfast tomorrow morning."

"What about the children?" Bash asked breathlessly as she began to kiss his neck.

"I told Robin that I needed to rest. He is enjoying the party with his cousins," Kenna replied. "As for Ana and Xander, their Aunt Claude has taken a shine to them. You will see them tomorrow morning, bright and early after I have my way with you."

"What about my sis-"

"Sebastian," Kenna said firmly, making him grin and bow his head. "You're mine for this night. I beg you. I just crave your touch - I need you to pleasure me right now."

Bash nodded and looked around before gently shoving her against the wall and attacking her neck. "Have you ever..." Kiss. "Thought about doing this..." Another kiss. "Public?"

Kenna gasped. "Bash!" She cried out, giggling. "Well, I did pleasure myself before your..." She stopped, blushing bright red when her husband pulled away to raise an eyebrow. "Right, sorry. No speaking of the past, lovers and everything else."

"You've ruined the moment," Bash said.

"I haven't!" She said, pulling his head down so she could kiss him deeply. "Come on. Let's just..." She hooked a leg around his waist and lifted her skirts before her hands went to the front of his trousers. "Do it."

"Kenna, you've ruined the moment," Bash said with a grin, kissing her cheek. "Boring bedchamber it is."

Kenna pouted. "I'm sorry," she replied, running her fingernails down his chest as her leg unhooked from his waist. "Actually, I'm not feeling sex right now if I'm honest." She pulled a face, making him frown.

"Why not?"

"Sophia's birth was... _hard_," she whispered, taking a sharp intake of breath. "In fact, we need to talk about that."

The way her tone switched made something sink in Bash's stomach. "What is it? Kenna, tell me."

"Not here," she said softly, meeting his eyes. "Let's go to our rooms."

When they arrived, Kenna went over to the table, pouring them both full cups of wine. She all but downed hers desperately, using the side of her finger to wipe her lips as Bash eyed her curiously.

"I died," she said finally. "I believed I did. I saw white and I saw you and... then I saw Robin."

Bash subconsciously placed a hand on his heart, the area where he was wounded. He always felt tingly there. "Are you saying...?"

"Our son can not only see the past or whatever he can, but he has the power to bring dead people or animals back to life," Kenna confessed. "I told him to never do it again, to keep it to himself until we could find a way to suppress his powers. Nostradamus is studying for me, for him and-"

"Kenna, I'm so sorry," Bash breathed out, covering his face.

She stopped, looking at him in confusion. "Whatever for?"

"If I'd never met Delphine, our son would be-"

"Normal? Powerless?" Kenna suggested. "It's not only Delphine, but it's also _you_. It's your maternal side, Bash!"

"Keep your-"

"I know," she hissed, her voice lowering. "Our son is Pagan, there is no denying that. He is his father's son. He also has powers - he's a-"

"Druid."

"Perhaps you are too," Kenna mumbled. "You've survived the most horrific of injuries and... you are no ordinary man, that is for sure."

Bash sighed heavily. "Druids are Celtic. Scottish links."

"Then somewhere in your ancestors, you have a Scottish relative," Kenna told him. "Because I, for sure, do _not_ have powers. Neither do my living siblings nor my parents before they died or anyone above them. And you always attract them, people with magic or whatever! The Bloodwood, th-the Darkness..."

"Maybe," Bash said, scratching the back of his neck. "I will talk to him."

"And say what?"

"That although it's dangerous to be what he is, it doesn't mean we love him any less," Bash told her. "He can receive lessons from Nostradamus, learn how to control what he can do and not to use them at all. Or better yet, we can find out how to suppress them for good."

Kenna nodded. "My sister died in my place."

"That's what happens when you do such a ritual," Bash replied. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thank you," she replied, smiling sadly. "I've ruined the moment completely now, haven't I?"

Bash chuckled wryly. "It's fine. Perhaps seeing the children _now_ would be nice. Wouldn't want to scare them after believing I was dead for so long."

Kenna smiled brightly. "I'll let our page fetch them as you and I," she began, taking his hand and pulling him to the next chamber which was a nursery. "Say 'hello' to our little girl."

Bash knelt by the cot and retrieved the baby from it, apologising for disturbing her sleep. "She's so beautiful."

"Of course, you'd say that. She looks like you," Kenna said, kissing the top of his head. "Sophia Sebastienne Francine."

Bash reached behind him and took her hand, his arm supporting the baby. "It's perfect. Perfect for the most perfect baby of them all."

"Don't let our other children hear that," Kenna said lightly. "I'll be right back. This dress really is soaked and I do need to fetch the children."

Bash didn't even bother replying as he made himself comfortable on the ground, continuing to stare down at the sleeping life he and his wife had made. "So perfect..."

...

Mary blushed when she woke up, feeling a certain something on her back. The sun broke into the room, landing on her husband's face as she turned to stare at his sleeping form. Gently, she ran her fingers through his hair and he smiled, his eyes remaining closed.

"Morning," he mumbled.

"Good morning, husband," Mary replied happily.

"Good morning, wife," Francis replied, pulling her to his chest and inhaling her scent.

Mary grinned. "I can see you're ready to..."

"Do you want to?" He asked, eyes opening.

She nodded, kissing him deeply and rolling on top of him. "I will always want to with you," she breathed out, readying herself.

"Your Majesty-"

Mary yelped and fell onto the ground and bumping her head in the process, Francis bursting into laughter as Leith cried out and turned around quickly.

"A-Apologies. I didn't realise the Queen was-"

"Leith, it's fine," Francis gasped out. "I needed that. Oh, God. I'll tell everyone-"

"Don't you dare!" Mary screamed at him, covering herself up by stealing the sheets off his body. "Leith, what is it?"

Leith swallowed hard, not daring to turn around. "The family are almost breaking their fast. A certain someone was very clear that everyone should be in attendance."

"Oh, you know that-"

"Bash is alive and well?" Leith finished. "Had the scare of my life last night when he and Robin went for a ride. The son was obviously elated to be reunited with his father, he insisted on a midnight ride."

"I'm glad," Mary breathed out. "We will be there in twenty."

"Take your time," Leith quickly said, leaving.

Francis laughed, throwing a pillow at his wife's head, making her hair fly everywhere from the wind it built. "Imagine it was one of the girls..."

"Oh, shut up!"

...

"Papa, did you know?!" Anne cried out, pulling her parents' hands towards the dining room. "Uncle Bash is-"

"We knew," Mary said, chuckling.

Anne squealed out in joy. "He brought us gifts!"

"Seriously?" Francis asked. "Where's mine?" He chuckled, sharing a look with his wife.

Of course, the children had gifts.

Mary laughed and let go once they reached the dining room where her youngest sons were too busy trying to get Bash to give them attention more than the other brothers. "He most certainly is the favourite uncle."

"Boys, be careful!" Francis told them, coming to lift Peter away from Bash. "Uncle Bash can't carry you all, he's still hurt."

"It's fine," Bash said, lifting the other two anyway. "Who likes ponies?"

"Bash, they have two already!"

"Never hurts to have a third," Bash replied, winking at his brother. "I want you to meet someone."

Just then, Robert entered with a flustered Muriel who bowed. "Your Majesties, this is Muriel-"

"di Acosta, I-"

"Brought my brother home," Francis finished. "I am forever grateful and please, whatever you need, do not hesitate to ask."

Muriel blushed, bowing once again. "A king in debt to me? Oh, God... I-I never prepared for this. What do I do?"

"Accept, you old fool," Bash said lightly.

"I thank you, wholeheartedly," Muriel said to Francis, his eyes then going over to Mary. "Oh, she's more beautiful in person."

Mary shared an amused glance with her husband before reaching her hand forward for Muriel to bow and kiss. "It's lovely to meet you, Lord di Acosta."

"I'm no lord, Your Majesty," Muriel said, feeling flushed. "Mere peasant. No one of importance."

"He's a former soldier," Bash told the King and Queen. "Pulled me from the beach with his ageing arms."

"It wasn't _all_ me. My son helped! He had to stay in the Azores, his wife was in labour. By the time I return, I will be a grandfather again," Muriel replied.

Mary smiled. "Then you mustn't return empty-handed. Accept a lovely bespoke rocking cot for your grandchild and some clothes with a stipend."

"A-A stipend?" Muriel asked. "For what?"

"Saving my life," Bash told him. "My wife and I came to an agreement. You will receive one-thousand crowns per anon."

"I didn't save your life to get money!" Muriel cried out in shock. "I just wanted to meet the Queen!"

Mary giggled, giving Bash a look to which he rolled his eyes in reply. "Well, why don't you join _me_ for tea this evening?"

"Are you sure about that?" Francis asked quietly so she could hear, a chuckle in his words. "He might fall even more in love with you and then, I'll have to cede you away in respect for the man old enough to be my grandfather."

Mary snorted and cleared her throat. "What do you say, Master di Acosta?"

Muriel nodded happily. "A pleasure, Your Majesty. Would the King join us?"

"Does he even want me there?" Francis whispered to his brother, making Bash snort and chuckle.

"Yes," Mary replied. She didn't want to be alone with this admirer, she thought lightly. "He would be. Excuse us but I don't think either of us wants to be apart after these long months apart from each other."

"I'll wear my best robes," Muriel promised them.

Bash coughed and turned to face the couple, putting the two princes down. "I'm going to see what has delayed my wife and children. Muriel, why don't you tell them about your lovely soup recipe before the Duke takes you to breakfast with the nobles?"

He walked around the now talking old man, pulling a face at Mary, Francis and Robert from behind him, making them laugh. Muriel stopped in confusion and Mary quickly excused them before he started again, Bash leaving with a smirk on his face.

...

"There you are!"

"Urgh," Kenna groaned out, tutting at her husband. "Do you know how many dresses our daughter has tried on?"

Bash grinned. "She is her mother's daughter."

"Shut up," Kenna replied, smirking. "Leith came by. Wanted to grab a drink with you this evening."

"I'll find him and accept," Bash replied, heading into the nursery to see Robin holding his youngest sister in his arms. "Oh, wife, look. Our governess has changed into a boy."

"I'll have you know, as your wife was chasing down your daughter, your other daughter was crying her lungs out," Robin told his father, rocking the baby. "No more, I beg you."

Bash ruffled his hair. "I wasn't able to bring this up during our ride."

"What is it, Papa?"

"Your mother told me," Bash said quietly. "Robin, I know you would do anything to be close to me, to have me accept and love you but regardless of how strong your Pagan ties are, you will always be my son. And the next thing I'm going to say is hard for me as well."

Robin cast his eyes down. "Yes?"

"What you are is scary for the world to cope with," Bash began gently. "I've seen at first hand what powers like yours can do. It's dark, it's evil, it's terrifying. And your mother and I don't want to lose you so... I've thought long and hard about this - maybe we should see about a way to get rid of them."

"But-"

"I am _Catholic_, _you_ are Catholic. Catholics don't harvest such power," Bash said firmly. "Robin, you've seen it yourself through your visions. What I've done, what I've borne witness to. I can't and won't let you be taken into that darkness as I had been. Without your mother, I'd probably be dead by now. Please, Robert?"

Robin's face fell and he nodded. "Yes, Father."

"You're still going to be special and a hero and someone I am always proud of," Bash continued. "Just more-"

"Normal."

"Yes."

_I don't want to be normal_, Robin thought. "Alright." He looked down at his youngest sibling who was fast asleep in his arms. She was normal. So were Anastasia and Alexander. _Perhaps, it won't be that bad at all and the visions are frightening and dark._ "I can finally sleep easily then."

Bash chuckled, kissing Robin's head hard. "My precious son."

Robin smiled.

...

Leeza turned her head to the side, giving her intruder of thoughts a smile. "Sebastian."

"Catherine said you were indisposed."

"I did want to see you but..."

"Don't blame yourself."

"No," Leeza breathed out. "Philip asked for yours and Francis's heads. He was willing to pay 100,000 crowns each, Bash. I found out from my former handmaiden in Spain. When you didn't come back... I knew he'd succeeded."

Bash glanced down. "His admiral _had_ directed all his forces to my ship. The best he could do was shoot me and miss my heart. I still breathe, Leeza. Don't beat yourself up about that."

Leeza swallowed hard. "First my daughter marrying your son and then you being lost..."

"Now, the marriage is annulled and I made a new friend in the man who saved my life," Bash replied. "Don't dwell on the past. Join us for breakfast. I want everyone there, I want smiles and joy and happiness. I also want to publically retire, my wife is sick of me running off to battles... I mean, if I'm inviting Catherine of all people, the best you can do is come to act as a buffer as well."

Leeza laughed, nudging his shoulder. "You forgive me?"

"If I can forgive Claude for accidentally exposing my son and our niece leading to their kidnapping, I can forgive you for your husband being a madman," Bash told her. "You are both my half-sisters, and family is important."

"I need a favour."

"What?"

She slid him a piece of paper. "I know you have contacts. I need you to do this for me."

Bash glanced down at the contents of the paper. "A name."

"Bash-"

"No." _Never again. Not for Francis, or Claude, or Leeza_.

"You killed a man who abused our nephew," Leeza began. "You killed Antoine Bourbon who raped our sister and abused your wife. Why won't you do this for me?"

Bash sighed. "You want me to kill Philip's mistress? What pleasure would that bring? You're here, she's there."

"She tried to kill me and my daughters!"

"Why can't you ask Catherine?"

Leeza scoffed. "You mean my mother who failed to have yours leave our beloved father's side?"

Bash rolled his eyes. "Never ask me to do such a thing again."

"You will do it?"

Bash grimaced. "I'll see what I can do."

"That is all I ask," Leeza replied, smiling. "Revenge for me and for you. Her death will hurt Philip."

"And what will happen after? You'll be his mistress?"

"Don't think so low of me," she snapped. "Of course not! I'll remind him who was always the mastermind behind the throne and that _no one_ messes with the Valois family."

"You are asking a lot from me," Bash told her. "My wife... if she finds out, she will leave me. And I promised her that I was done with everything, with battles, wars, fights that aren't mine. This also affects my children."

"I know, I know. I promise you, it will be between us and she'll be none the wiser. Your marriage protected," Leeza promised him.

Bash turned away from her. "It's best that you don't know anything from this point on. They'll obviously look your way, the jilted wife, sister of the most powerful king in the world."

"Oh, brother, French Court prepared me for far more worst situations than this," Leeza replied. "So, breakfast?"

...

Francis beamed at his daughters, lifting his cup to them as they giggled. "What are you two whispering about?"

"Nothing," they sang.

"Mary, our daughters are strange," Francis said, his wife chuckling from across the table where the princes were messily eating their meals.

"Girls, tell your uncle about your Latin lessons," Mary told them, buttering up some bread for Peter. "Peter, you ought to learn how to butter your bread yourself."

"Hmm, no thank you!" The boy replied, making everyone laugh.

Anne playfully rolled her eyes. "Our tutor is teaching us the Bible in Latin, Uncle Bash. By Easter, we should be able to perform a short reading in Church."

"That's wonderful," Bash said, turning to Robin. "Why don't you learn, Robert? Reaffirm our faith?"

Kenna turned to him in incredulity. "He's barely been back home. We should wait a couple of weeks before his tutoring starts. Grammar schooling really does take a lot out of a child and if he's thrust into that so soon, he won't cope with his studying."

"The sooner the better," Bash told her. "He can join the girls at Easter Mass with the reading."

"What if I don't want to do it?" Robin asked quietly.

Francis chuckled. "Of course, you do. Are you scared of standing in front of many people?"

"Fear of public speaking can be easily fixed," Catherine told the boy. "It makes great men."

"And you will gain our family favour with the Pope," Mary added. "If we are teaching our children to be good, devout Catholics and learn how to expertly read the Bible, should we ever need help from the Vatican."

"And if I do not want to be Catholic?" Robin asked.

Everyone dropped their cutlery and turned to Robin.

"A-Are you speaking hypothetically?" Claude asked him with a soft chuckle.

"I'm serious," Robin said. "Who here is a good Catholic? Who here hasn't taken a life? Or blackmailed another? Or framed another? Or had extramarital affairs? Or slept with traitors? Or had children outside of their marriage? Or-"*****

"You should stop there," Kenna snapped.

Catherine raised an eyebrow. "Keep your son in order, Sebastian."

"Robert Francis, out. Now," Bash ordered, getting up from his seat with Robin following.

"So, there's a play for the children to enjoy!" Leeza said, smiling at the remaining children. "And it's all about our King's victory over Spain! Who wants to watch it?"

"I do!" The little ones called out as Anne, Rose and John shared wary glances.

"Uh oh, Robin's in trouble..." Anne said under her breath, making them nod.

...

"I want to be Pagan and you can't stop me," Robin said. "I have thought long and hard about it _myself_ and I don't think suppressing my powers would be good for me."

"You don't know what's good for you, Robert Francis!" Bash snapped. "Your mother and I-"

"Don't rule my life anymore! I turned thirteen without you, I have killed men on the battlefield, Father!" Robin cried out. "I should have a say in my life. Especially after you married me off to my own cousin as a damned warning!"

Bash scoffed. "You really don't understand. And that is exactly why your mother and I _still_ control your life. Human sacrifices, blood rituals! Do you remember what I told you about what happened in the woods all of those years ago? About how I'd leave your mother for weeks and months on end, trying to put an end to the Darkness? How we took in a boy, not that much younger than you are right now and how he was the next Darkness and we saved him. Everything I do, I do it protect all of you and if you even as much as mutter a Pagan word, almost two decades of my hard work goes to waste."

Robin glared at him. "For a long time, I had no purpose. I was too busy trying to live up to _your_ expectations of me! Everyone would speak about what a hero you were and how you did this and that and I wanted that. I wanted the glory but then... the war happened and I truly... I truly thought about it and I don't want to be you. I don't want to abandon a part of me that could be the beginning of something new and exciting and wonderful! I'm keeping Grandmother alive, I can feel her."

Bash hadn't heard from his mother in so long. She disappeared and never returned. Not that he cared. She killed his half-sisters out of spite and jealousy. He would never forgive her.

"She's dead, but I feel her."

Bash frowned. "When did she die?"

"Before I was born," Robin told him. "I can feel spirits. I can talk to them now. She tells me stories about you when you were my age and younger. She's proud of you."

"How did she die?"

Robin winced. "Someone strangled her."

"Who?"

"She won't say."

Bash didn't care anyway. "Fine, you can feel the spirits, well done," he said sarcastically. "I still have a say in your life and I say that all of this Pagan talk is over. You are Catholic and that is the end of it."

"Father-"

"Mind if I cut in?" Francis asked softly, eyeing Robin.

"Talk some sense into your nephew," Bash snapped before leaving, slamming the door shut.

"He's just scared, Robin," Francis told his nephew.

Robin groaned. "I'm not doing this to hurt them. They can send me to a school and I can learn about everything I can do and then I can be of use to France. To everyone."

"The world is an unforgiving, judgemental place," Francis said. "Everyone fears what they do not understand. They will believe you to be a witch and trust me, you don't want that to happen. They'll burn you alive, draw and quarter you before that, doing so as you still breathe. They won't stop there. They'll find your mother, father, sisters, brother... They'll do the same to them. In fact, make you watch. Perhaps you'll be lucky and bleed out after they rip your guts out. Then you won't hear their screams."

Robin swallowed hard. "Do I have to do the reading?"

"No."

"Then I'll..." Tears sprung to his eyes and he took a deep breath in before releasing it. "I'll remain Catholic."

Francis nodded, giving him a small smile. "As long as you don't make it a habit to use your powers, I could convince your parents to stop looking for a cure or a way to suppress them. Doing that may cause certain consequences and I am sure they'd rather you alive than a dead son. Keep your powers, but learn from Nostradamus for four hours a day. You will be relieved from your choir and Greek lessons."

"I hated them anyway," Robin said, beaming.

"See? Compromise. Good boy."

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty."

"You do need to apologise. Explain that you were troubled by the events at war. That it was Protestantism you were considering," Francis told him. "Don't tell anyone about your Pagan ties."

Robin nodded. "I won't. Thank you, Uncle Francis."

"You're welcome," Francis said. "Now, let's finish breakfast and I'll take you, John and the girls out for a ride."

"That would be great," Robin said happily.

...

"Protestantism?" Catherine asked dubiously. "It could have been worse. I mean, there was confirmed suspicion that your father's mother was Pagan."

Bash coughed a little. "I always believed my mother to be Catholic."

Catherine scoffed. "Of course, you did."

He eyed her suspiciously, wondering if she had strangled his mother to death but he didn't bring it up, turning to Francis with a grateful smile. He didn't know how the King did it but the boy had been spooked out of Paganism and right into Catholicism once again, on the promise of no Easter Mass readings.

"It would be a risky thing if the family were split on religion," Claude told her nephew gently. "We do not want to end up like the Tudors..."

Mary nodded. "Elizabeth is now set against Lutheran ways, maintaining England as a Catholic country."

"Indeed," the French Elisabeth said approvingly. "Honestly, it makes it harder for people to revolt if their king shares the same beliefs as them. The only reason Heugenots are on our side is that Francis is tolerant of them and does not punish them for believing what they wish to believe. And members on his council are Protestant, he respects everyone."

"Even if you were Protestant, I'm sure we would all support you," Claude said happily. "But remain Catholic, for all of our souls even if we do kill, blackmail, commit adultery, sleep with traitors-"

"I think we get it, Claude," Francis said, chuckling and sharing a knowing look with Robin who blushed and bowed his head.

Kenna cleared her throat. "I should get going. I need to plan the christenings."

"Do you need help?" Leeza asked her.

Kenna's eyes met with Bash's and he nodded. "If you do not mind, I could pick your brain on a few things. You planned a lot in Spain, didn't you?"

Leeza got up with her. "I did. Ladies, gentlemen, Your Majesties and Highnesses, excuse us."

The women left, arm in arm and Bash smiled to himself, glad his wife got along with his sisters. Years ago, it would have been a different case, the awkwardness of her relationship with their father no longer present as Kenna was firmly Bash's and she was his for life.

"Why doesn't your new husband join us?" Catherine asked Claude.

"He's not my-"

"He will be soon. The Pope has agreed to marry you both," Catherine told her. "Isn't that right, Francis?"

Francis looked up from his meal and nodded. "Right."

"You seem distracted," Catherine stated, making Mary turn to him in concern.

Francis smiled it off. "I'm just thinking."

"About what?" Mary asked him.

"I wouldn't be here. I would have been coming home, months from now but-"

"With God's good grace, he gave you all the strength to come home earlier than planned," Catherine cut him off. "Oh, my sweet son. Back at your rightful place with your family."

Francis smiled, kissing the back of Mary's hand. "If we're done here, I promised four patient boys and girls a ride."

"Oh, finally!" Anne cried out. "I was beginning to think we'd never end this long affair of a breakfast."

"Anne!" Rose cried out, giggling.

"It's true," Robin said, shrugging.

John blushed. "We're just going to slip out of here..." He stood up, pulling his half-sisters and half-cousin up before they disappeared to the stables.

Francis chuckled, standing too and pressing a kiss on top of Mary's head. "I will see you and Caterina later," he whispered, knowing she'd spend time with their youngest - her breasts were ever so full and he wasn't about to miss a chance to spot a view of them much to her amusement.

"The cheek!" Mary whispered knowingly, shooing him off and turning to Bash. "So, tell me about Muriel."

"Muriel?" Catherine asked, frowning. "Who is that?"

"That," Bash began, sipping his wine. "Is the man who doesn't know when to shut the hell up. Anyway, he dragged me from the shore of the beach after the battle..."

...

Francis peppered kisses all over Mary's back, making her giggle as her eyes opened. "There we go. How are you so tired?"

"Francis, we've made love twice, I've fed Caterina and been on my feet all day with the boys," Mary said, yawning. "Then that tea with Muriel, Robert, Kenna and Bash. It seems that Robert was very grateful for his sister's husband's return, he is setting Muriel up with a business in Scotland so he can provide for his grandchildren and children."

"We're all grateful," Francis mumbled, smiling lazily. "I don't know what I'd do without Bash. Even when we hate each other, he's always there, ready to protect me."

"That's what family do," Mary replied. "Speaking of family... I invited my half-brother to stay with us for a while."

"Oh."

Mary frowned. "You don't think that is wise?"

"Mary, you can draw your own conclusions from this but be wary," Francis replied gently. "Once, they were willing to put him on your throne."

Mary raised an eyebrow, sitting up to look down at him. "The same could be said for Bash on yours."

"But Bash was never acting _against_ me but for me. He did that to save my life. If Kenna or their children did not exist, I would be high on his priority regardless of any hostility or love between us," Francis told her softly. "You both said it as much, the prophecy and-"

"I understand," Mary whispered. "If not for the threat on your life, Bash would never have agreed to being legitimised because he never wanted the duties or responsibility of a crown. James has no reason to take my throne other than the fact that I am rarely in Scotland. But here's the thing, _you_ now rule Scotland, remember?"

Francis nodded. "By proxy, I believe. I did what Antoine Bourbon did to his wife but-"

"Kinder?"

"More willingly, I'd say," he said softly. "James could dispute a French king ruling Scotland but either way, having him in your life could do more damage than harm."

Mary sighed heavily. "I will think more about it. If anything, Robert is there to keep him at bay. The Beatons are powerful in Scotland, dare I say they respect them as much as they do me. They gain favour, he loses it and we're all part of the same family."

Francis reached up and cupped her cheek. "You won't have me locking you in any towers should you come to a decision," he said lightly but with severity in his words. "I want you to feel complete and if that means _all_ of your family in your life, then so be it."

Mary beamed and leaned down to cradle his head and kiss his lips. The kiss became fervent and desperate and she let giggles escape her lips as he flipped her over onto her back, trailing kisses down and her bare chest.

"Francis!" She squealed when he sucked at her neck. "You'll leave a bruise!"

"And so? The whole world needs to know..." Another suck. "How much I missed my wife."

"And are our children included in that?"

Francis snorted and laughed. "Well, the girls are old enough and we could tell the boys that you had an allergic reaction."

"You and I both know that will end up with your mother shoving tonic after tonic to dispel such 'allergies'," Mary replied.

"It's worth it to not scar our children for life," was her husband's reply before he continued his journey down lower.

...

Kenna froze by the open door, watching her husband trace his newish scar with his fingers in front of their standing mirror. She had put Ana and Xander to bed, leaving Sophia with the governess and making Robin promise he would sleep soon after playing cards with Leith and John.

Her own hand went to her heart and she felt it flutter when she saw Bash push down against and let out a slight wince. He cursed and slipped his nightshirt on, turning around and jumping when he saw her.

"Dear God, are you trying to actually kill me, woman?" He asked lightly, taking a seat and pulling his boots off.

Kenna swallowed hard. "Bash, we're linked."

He froze on his second boot. "What?"

"Yeah, I forgot to say," she said softly, walking over after closing the door firmly shut and locking it. "I think when you were hurt, I felt that pain in my heart. It was so severe and I could feel myself drowning even though there was nothing physically wrong with me. That's when I knew and Nostradamus confirmed it as much. I guess I have something to thank that woman in the woods for."

Bash sighed heavily and rubbed his chin. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry?" Kenna asked, crossing her arms.

"If I feel pain, you feel pain. If I die, you die," Bash told her. "I know how this works. I've been through it before but managed to break the bond. I never meant to put you in such a position."

"Why don't you stop apologising and ask me how I feel about that?"

"How do you feel about that?"

Kenna gave him a soft smile. "I feel safe."

"Not scared?"

"Why would I be scared?"

"For the reasons I've stated - I die, you die and vice versa. What I feel, you feel to an extent and-"

"I'd rather keep that link, know that whenever we may be apart, you are safe and alive," Kenna told him. "And if you are in pain or dying, I'd be there with you somehow even if we weren't physically together. We are in this marriage and I don't know about you but if death does us part, then I'll be right by your side whenever that time comes. I know our children will be safe-"

"And with their own families by then," Bash said.

She smiled. "Exactly. We'd be old and grey and your heart would give out and mine would stop not that soon after," Kenna mumbled, blushing at the cheesiness. "I'd die of a broken heart and that's sweet."

Her husband laughed, gesturing for her to come over. She did and he brought her hand to his scar, pressing her palm against it. "This is yours. If it gives up, the only woman I want to see when that happens is you."

"Did we just make a pact to die together?"

"You did. I intend to live forever," Bash said lightly.

She scoffed. "Yes, of course. You'd be that old bastard who just won't give up and die. Living to a thousand years old and I'd be _begging_ for us to be done with the world. You'd seriously let me go on for that long, hmm?"

"Kenna, you come up with the most peculiar of scenarios," her husband replied, laughing even more.

Kenna smiled and studied him, bringing her fingers to his chin. His green eyes stared up at her and she didn't say anything more. She just needed to drink the moment into her mind, memorise everything.

"You don't know how happy I am to see you wearing something other than blue or black," Bash whispered, lifting the lilac sash of her expensive dress in his fingers.

"I guess the possibility of losing you was unbearable," Kenna mumbled. "If not for the children, for Robin, I'd given up. I'm sorry that I'd leave our children like that but I couldn't... Not without you, I'd never... And I know we joke about things like this, me being too spirited to be a widow but I felt like I'd lost my _heart_." Her voice broke and she sniffled. "It scares me."

"What does?"

She swallowed hard, shrugging slightly. "I've never felt like this for anyone. Not even Henry - I'd never die for him but for you, if it meant seeing you again, I'd die."

"Our marriage-"

"Began with vows at sword point, but I didn't just become comfortable. Bash, I feel safe, in love, complete wholeness... My whole life is centred around you," Kenna breathed out, kneeling before him. "You're the best thing to ever happen to me and I am eternally grateful for you. I have to thank Henry for that but I don't care, as long as you are mine and I am yours. Bash, you are my knight in shining armour."

Bash pressed his lips against hers, deepening the kiss before pulling her up and onto his lap. He cupped her cheeks and pulled away to stare into her brown orbs. "I love you."

"I think you know my answer already," she whispered cheekily before she felt his fingers begin to work on her laces and his lips on hers desperately, her own hands going to his trousers.

After leaving his wife sated and asleep, Bash sent a note to Leeza through her guard.

The former queen's eyes fell and she realised why he didn't come face to face with her to confess that he couldn't go through with their plan any longer. The look of disappointment would be too much for him from her. The look that he failed a sibling despite fighting for the ones he loved - his wife and children.

She replied with a simple: _'Thank you, I understand. Leeza.'_

And went to bed, night terrors filled with almost dying, and her daughters dead in her arms.

* * *

***I don't know, but when Robin was saying this, I had an image of Kris Jenner shutting a laptop after 'exposing' everyone, haha. Robin's savage!**


	69. A Glimpse For The Husband of The Queen

**Replies to reviews:**

**Guest (1) [chapter 68]: Yes, Robin is so savage! I can imagine people putting their hands up when he asked who hadn't done that thing and then slowly put them down when they realise that actually, they had! The traitor thing was too savage, his favourite aunt and godmother, Mary wouldn't have liked that as well as his poor mother! There's Bash who defends their honour, haha.**

**Guest (2) [chapter 68]: Thanks! Here's more.**

**Guest (3) [chapter 68]: Omg, I need that too. I'm thinking of ways to switch things up for Frary time. Yes, Robin does slay and is a savage boy, haha!**

****FeliLuna13 [chapter 68]: It's fine! I hope you're well and safe! Yeah, I was going to have Mary name the baby just after Catherine because I was thinking Kenna would want to pay homage to the girl who died in her place but I thought more about it and had her name her newborn daughter after her 'dead' dad and victorious uncle. Mary at this point refused to name all her daughters 'Mary' and 'Marie' haha. You must have been mindreading me, haha! I had names picked for all the children before I started this! It will be a while until Bash decides to investigate more into his mother's death. Robin only knows how but not who did the crime but there will be Bash/Catherine moments to come when he finds out the truth and there will be a lot of mixed feelings for Bash as he loved his mother but hated her for killing his youngest half-sisters. Leith and Claude will be coming up in the next chapter as Leith struggles to come to grip with his new life. Leeza and her girls are TBD, I have some works for their snippets in the chapter and they will tie into the de Poitierses lives as Claude once was. Regarding Mary's acceptance with Francis ruling Scotland, in the next chapter, her visitor will give her food for thought on that. I'm glad you are! Enjoy this chapter!****

* * *

_"Francis?"_

_"I'm still here," he mumbled softly, turning to stare into his wife's wide, teary brown eyes. "I'm still here." He cupped her cheek, brushing a tear away. "Tell me about Anne."_

_Mary sniffled. "She's outside, enjoying the fresh air."_

_"Good. She's been low of late. The fresh air will do wonders," Francis replied gently. "And James? How is he?"_

_"He doesn't know why he can't play with his papa," Mary told him shakily. "Catherine is taking his attention elsewhere."_

_"Make sure his rooms are cleaned-"_

_"I know."_

_"Protect him-"_

_"I know," Mary breathed out, tears spilling from her eyes. "And I will protect John, Joseph and Peter too. They are all safe. They are taking their studies seriously. They will grow to be great men, like their father."_

_Francis brushed his thumb over Mary's lips. "As determined and headstrong as their mother... How about my Sweet Rose? Did she enjoy her gift?"_

_Mary laughed softly, nodding. "You were right, roses all over her bedchambers was a beautiful sight to see. I had the one on her bed set in glass. The one you kissed. __Rose represents love, concentration, balance and passion."_

_"Her mother's daughter."_

_Mary blushed furiously. "For Anne, the orchid. Love, luxury, beauty and strength."_

_Francis gave her a soft smile. "She does have a taste for the finer things. The epitome of a royal princess. Who is strong and will be a strong queen for a strong king."_

_Mary laid her head on his chest and he managed to catch her lips in a kiss before she rested her head. Her fingers played with the exposed blonde wisps of hair on his chest and she dug her face into his chest._

_"Don't leave me, Francis. Caterina is not even a year old..."_

_"Ah, how can I forget Caterina?" Francis breathed out in wonder. "Seeing her first steps brought joy to my heart. I hate to miss more firsts with her. With any of them but..."_

_Mary looked up at him. "I can't lose you, my love. Fight this. Fight for us, for our children... Fight for you." She shut her eyes._

_Francis swallowed hard. "Crysanthemum for my youngest daughter. Fidelity, joy and long life..."_

_Mary could hear his heart rate slowing down and she began to sob when it completely stopped. She gripped onto his shirt tightly and her sobs became gasping hiccups when the door opened and Catherine appeared, heartbroken._

_"He's gone," Mary confirmed her suspicions. "Long live the king..."_

...

Robin's eyes snapped open and he sat up in his bed. It was quite big for a bastard's son but he was the nephew of a king and if he was honest, the bed wasn't as big as the one he had in Avon. In Avon, his parents _and_ siblings could probably have a sleepover.

Tears sprung to his eyes and he brought a hand to his head in confusion and fear. He'd _never_ got a vision into the future before. If it was even the future. It was always the past and the past involved his parents at most. Snippets into the other adults' lives were through his mother and father.

He got out of his bed, discarding the fur covers onto the ground as he walked to his window and saw that it was early morn. He strained his ears, hearing the soft murmur of his father's voice coming from his younger sister's bedchambers that were linked to his. Alexander was on her other side and their youngest sister was housed with their parents. It was a large apartment, fit for the half-brother of a king.

He quietly padded barefooted to the door that linked his and Ana's bedchambers and slowly opened the door to see Bash on the ground, almost falling asleep as Ana played dolls with him.

"...Pippa saves the king-"

"Papa, _this_," she started, grabbing a slightly brown-haired doll and taking the dark blonde one from his hand. "Is Pippa. This one is Leila."

Bash's eyes slowly opened and he studied the dolls. "They're exactly the same."

"Their hairs are different!"

"You mean _hairbands_," Bash stated. "Or is my sight not as sharp as it used to be?"

Ana turned to him. "You're going blind, Papa. One must deal with that appropriately."

Bash gawped. He wasn't! "And how do you know what 'appropriately' means?" He completely disregarded her saying he was going blind. He wasn't old!

"Mama always tells us to dress as so," Ana explained.

Bash chuckled. "Well then, my darling daughter, I do apologise," he said, taking the second doll. "Pippa saves the king-"

"Here," Ana said, stuffing one of the identical three male dolls into his hand. "The king."

"The king, Bastian," he finally finished. "Can we change his name?"

Ana glared at him and Bash immediately backed down. She was her mother's daughter through and through. So condescending and stubborn. Oh, and too mouthy for her age.

"You are letting a six-year-old dominate you, Father?" Robin asked, finally making his presence known.

"What are you do up so early, Robin?" Bash asked, concerned.

Robin smirked. "Says the man playing dolls with a headstrong six-year-old."

"Shut up, Robert," Ana said sharply, reaching a doll towards her older brother. "Sit down and join us. We will have a tea party after."

"Just go with it," Bash mockingly whispered.

"She's just like Mama," Robin muttered, sitting down on the carpeted ground on Ana's other side.

"You're the prince! The king's brother, Jasper."

Robin scoffed. "Let me guess, he falls in love with the king's true love?"

Bash warily eyed him. "Ana, I'm sure your fever has broken. If you are making jibes at us, you must be back to normal by now."

Ana shook her head, taking his free hand to her forehead. "I'm still sick, see?!"

"What is this about, Ana?" Bash asked her softly.

Ana sniffled, placing the dolls down. "I-"

The three turned to the open door where the sound of a baby crying disturbed them. Bash got up, ruffling his eldest two's hair before going to retrieve the baby before she woke the whole castle up.

He returned, the baby swaddled in his arms as he settled himself in the rocking chair by the fireplace. Sophia hates the movement, her whimpers making Ana's face fall even more.

"Why did they have another baby?" She asked Robin quietly.

Robin turned to her in surprise. "I don't think she was planned but if God wills it, they must accept."

"If it's not you, Xander or Mama, Papa spends time with Sophia. I don't matter anymore."

Robin sighed heavily. Here he was, wanting to talk to his father about his dream or vision, whatever it was and his sister had feigned illness early in the morning to catch a moment of her beloved father's time.

"Father?" He called Bash.

Bash didn't bother looking up from consoling Sophia. "Robert."

"Let me take Sophia," Robin told him, getting up with his arms open. "I can't sleep so I will stay up and settle her. Perhaps you could read Ana a story? I don't think any of us can handle another moment trying to remember identical dolls' names."

Bash chuckled and nodded, placing the still fussing baby into her older brother's arms. "You're a natural. One day you will be a father. You would do anything to protect them. They will become your life, the reason you breathe and you would enjoy every moment of it."

"I'll go to the nursery," Robin said quietly, rocking the baby in his arms. "I'll speak to you later."

He left the bedchamber for the nursery and he crept past his sleeping mother on the bed. He settled himself on the chaise and cooed Sophia back to sleep. His mind wandered to his dream.

If his dream was real, he had roughly ten months to prevent it.

...

Francis chuckled when he felt his wife's hand make its way down his chest. "For once, I'm tired."

"Oh, pity," Mary replied teasingly, her hand going even further down.

He let out a groan of pain and Mary shot up, pulling the sheets back to see his bruised side. "It's nothing to be worried about. I fell out of bed the morning you went to tend to Caterina."

Mary tutted. "Francis, you ought to be more careful. I will call Nostradamus to see if he has anything for that."

She got out of the bed and put her robe on. She gave him a warm smile, promising to return as soon as possible.

When the door closed behind her, Francis sat up. He felt something drip down his neck and he brought a hand to his ear, feeling a warm liquid. He brought it to his eyesight and saw blood.

He quickly cleaned himself up and when he was done by the washbasin, the door opened to reveal Mary and Nostradamus.

"Your Majesty, the Queen said-"

"I'm fine," Francis quickly said. "A bit breathless but fine."

Nostradamus politely asked Mary for some privacy and she tentatively obliged, citing that she'd visit the children and wake them up for the day.

"We have known each other for as long as you have lived," Nostradamus said, his greying hair covering his left eye. "Whatever that is spoken between us will be kept between us."

Francis swallowed hard. "I think I'm dying Nostradamus."

"Then we must do all we can to stop that."

...

"Good morning, little one!" Rose cooed, lifting her baby sister into her arms. "Shall we go and find the wetnurse? Yes, we shall!"

Anne smiled warmly as she entered the nursery. "Looks like someone beat me to it. I was going to wake her up for her feed."

"I am so happy Mama and Papa had another daughter," Rose replied, beaming. "She's ever so sweet and she smells amazing."

"She probably has more baths than us," Anne said as they waited for the wetnurse to come to them.

The sisters settled on the carpet, making faces at Caterina and brushing her soft hair back gently. They shared a warm smile, Rose leaning her head on Anne's shoulder.

"I can't wait until I become a mother," Anne said softly. "Babies are the best. When they're girls, of course."

Rose giggled. "I wouldn't mind a son. Sons are very powerful so we shouldn't rule them out."

"I hope that Little Cat will marry a king and be a queen of her own standing. Perhaps when he dies, she will be queen regnant, not dowager queen," Anne said, studying the baby's wide eyes as her mouth searched for food. "One day, Rosie, a queen will have complete power from her birthright. Although Mother is a queen of her own standing, we can't deny that Father's far more superior."

"That day would be beautiful and work will get done quicker and easier," Rose replied. "Men - who actually needs them?"

The girls giggled, gasping with wide eyes when Caterina gave them a ghost of a smile. But they will later realise that the baby had passed wind. They will still giggle and say how unladylike it was.

...

Francis grinned when he heard giggling coming from the nursery. He entered and found all three of his daughters on the ground, the eldest two making inside joke after inside joke and the baby just searching far and wide for breakfast in the form of breastmilk.

"Now, what do we have here?"

"Papa!" Anne and Rose cried out.

"Three beautiful princesses going about their morning," Francis continued, taking a seat before them. "Giggling as if the world depends on it."

Anne snorted. "Cat passed wind."

Francis groaned dramatically. "I remember when you both were little. Rose had passed wind and Anne, you couldn't stop wafting your nose, screaming that it 'smol bad!'."

"Wasn't I three?"

"You were and very judgemental even then," Francis replied teasingly. "For the longest of times, 'bad' and 'no' were your favourite words."

"As so should be," Anne replied.

Rose giggled, smacking her sister's arm lightly. "Papa, tell us more stories when we were little!"

"Well, Anne refused to drink milk once after a visit to Avon and a farmer showed us how to milk a cow," Francis told them. "But that contradicted what she said because she still loved a cup of warm milk every night and your mother's breasts."

"Father!" Anne cried out, blushing. "I am a woman now."

Francis held a hand to his mock wounded chest. "My girls are growing up so quickly. Gone are the days I look _down_ at them from a great distance! Now, one surpasses their mother. Dear Lord, help me."

"So dramatic," Rose said, laughing. "We're still your little girls."

Francis beamed. "How about a horse ride by the lake? We could even skate."

"Right now?" Rose asked him.

He nodded. "Yes, right now. Are you both up for one?"

The girls shared a glance. "It's a plan."

...

A horse ride with his daughters ended up being with his daughters and three youngest sons. Mary had spent the first half with them, Caterina in her arms before she returned with the baby to welcome a visitor from Scotland.

Now, Francis watched as the children played in the snow, throwing snowballs at each other. He smiled, tears stinging his eyes as the reminder that every day was a gift because of his declining health.

Nostradamus was working day and night. His father's former doctor, Ambroise Paré was being sourced down by the seer as well. Francis couldn't tell anyone, not his darling wife, his loyal brother or his overprotective mother. Even his sisters couldn't know - Claude was planning her wedding and Leeza was spending time with her daughters, more now than ever.

Peter ran up to him, handing him a snowball in his gloved hands. His father accepted it and chose his victim.

Anne.

"Father!" She squealed out in horror. "Oh, you are getting it!"

Francis laughed, shielding his face from the attack of snowballs his eldest daughter rained on him. She had her mother's strong throwing skills. He ought to teach them more archery and perhaps swordplay - fencing.

"I yield!" He cried out when one hit his cheek.

"Good!" Anne said, curtseying. "As a king should."

"Anne!" Francis cried out, laughing. "Oskar is in trouble, choosing you as a bride."

Anne smirked. "So he should be."

Rose spluttered, helping James build a defence wall from Anne. Even Joseph and Peter saw her as their playful enemy and attacked her from two sides. Anne burst into laughter, swearing vengeance by grabbing Peter and tickling him.

"Children, it is time to come inside!" Mary's voice called out. "We have a visitor from Scotland. Come along now."

They whined, the girls helping their little brothers get up their horses and Francis slowly got up from the ground, wincing. His eyes met Mary's concerned ones and he gave her a smile, gesturing for her to ride off.

When the others rode ahead, Francis made his way over to his horse and just as he was about to get on it, he saw Robin sitting by the frozen lake.

"Robin?"

Robin froze and slowly turned to him. "Your Maj-"

"We're alone."

"Uncle Francis," Robin said softly. "I heard you all. Did you have fun?"

Francis nodded. "Why are you all alone?"

"Just needed some peace," Robin mumbled as Francis sat beside him. "I've been getting particular dreams..."

"Visions?"

"I don't know."

"How can you tell them apart?"

Robin shrugged. "The hues, I guess. The past - my parents', they're orange or red and I get a sinking feeling in my stomach at times. Normal dreams have none and well, the recent ones are blue and purple and I feel like I can't breathe."

"Have you told Nostradamus?"

"Not yet. I'm afraid of what he will say."

"Or confirm for you," Francis said knowingly. "Can you speak to your father about it?"

Robin shook his head adamantly. "No. Not about this one."

Francis looked around. "Well, I am here. We can talk about it now."

Robin bowed his head and pressed his palms into his eyes. "Not with you."

"Oh."

"I... I don't know who to tell."

"Your mother? Kenna will understand and she will tell Bash and relay-"

"No."

"Robin, whatever it is, I am sure it will be fine," Francis said before he paused. "Or is it someone's... _death_?"

Robin swallowed hard, lifted his head and nodded, teary-eyed. "If it is true, I possess the power to tell them and prevent it right? But everything happens for a reason and if I disturb the sequence, they could die another way and... Everyone would be..."

"Robin, do you know of the prophecy my wife was obsessed over?"

Robin nodded sadly. "A bit. She almost married my father because of it."

"That prophecy said I was to die," Francis said. "Die childless. But look, here I am. I am breathing," he swallowed hard. _Not for long_. "I have seven children, I rule flourishing countries... The prophecy that Nostradamus saw changed. And whatever you saw, we can prevent it. Or at least give it a good try."

Robin's face fell and he gave Francis a sad smile. "You die."

Francis felt the ice on his cheeks bite. His whole body ran cold.

The boy's smile disappeared completely and he let out sobs, wishing he couldn't see the future, past or anything. He said his father was right, he wanted to be normal. He couldn't handle knowing what he could. He wasn't ready to find out how the people he loved died, when and how.

"H-How long do I... have?"

"Ten months, give or take," Robin said softly. "Uncle Francis, you mustn't die. But if you did..."

Francis turned to him in shock. "What do you know?"

"Can I show you something?"

Francis nodded. "Yes."

They got up and Robin wielded his bow and arrow. They spent a while walking around until they saw a family of wild foxes.

"They have been killing the chickens," Francis said when Robin readied a shot to the smallest one. "Be..."

Robin turned to him and nodded. "Forgive me, Father, these souls are yours to take but for my part, I must do this."

He didn't even leave Francis's gaze as he let go and the arrow hit something, making it fall onto the blanket of snow beneath it. Blood seeped through quickly and Robin saw the damage he did.

The chest was still rising up and down, and Robin slowly walked up to it, the baby abandoned by its family a few yards away, watching the people with fearful eyes. The fox stopped moving.

Robin waved Francis over and the boy closed his eyes and began his ritual.

Francis watched on with wide eyes and when it was complete, they heard a soft thud behind them and saw the biggest fox lying still on the snow. They returned their gazes to the wounded one and saw it alive and breathing again, standing up and nuzzling its nose into Robin's waiting hand.

"By God, you..."

Robin nodded. "I don't know the risks. I tried it twice before this time. One animal, one person - my mother."

Francis furrowed his brows. He had noticed his brother and Kenna acting rather clingy than usual. They were always independent souls but their near-deaths or _death_ rather had brought them closer to each other to the point that Francis could practically see them itching to run away to be alone.

"The afterbirth killed her on Christmas Day. I brought her back to life - I had lost Father, I couldn't lose her too," Robin quickly said. "Then, my aunt, her sister, died."

Francis couldn't let someone die in his place. He knew about the woman in the woods, the witch. His brother had seldom drunk himself inebriated and spilt the tales that kept him awake.

"Robin, do you want this?"

"I'm not so sure anymore," Robin confessed. "As I said, how can I bear knowing what I know and not being able to stop it?"

Francis hugged him tightly. "You will be alright. Thank you for giving me time so I know how to go about this."

The fox nestled itself on Robin's knees.

"I think we're taking this one home with us," Francis said, the both of them chuckling. "Name her."

Robin grinned. "Hope."

"Hello, Hope," Francis mumbled, lifting the fox into his arms as they got up. "Let's hope we live up to your name."

* * *

**I had this idea after reading a bunch of other fics. Don't sue or kill me, I have a plan as always!**


	70. A Fearful Queen

**Replies to reviews:**

**Guest (1) [chapter 69]: Well, I'm afraid there will be more tearful moments coming up ;( x Thank you!**

**elder441 [chapter 69]: You'll just have to wait and see ;)**

**BlerBlerBler [chapter 69]: Indeed, perhaps they did get too comfortable thinking they fully changed the future. Robin is the best, just like his father, ready to help Francis in whatever he needs. **

****FeliLuna13 [chapter 69]: He really is.****

* * *

During a council meeting, Francis was disturbed by the presence of Nostradamus. Both Mary and Bash were curious about his presence but Francis merely listened to the whispered message and excused himself after ten more minutes of negotiation with the German Ambassador.

"Where are you going?" Mary asked him, just so he could hear.

"A situation has arisen," Francis replied cautiously. "I am merely helping Nostradamus get to the bottom of it."

"Do come before supper," she told him. "Our visitor-"

"I know. I will be there," Francis said softly.

He left, following the seer to the man's quarters where the doctor was waiting for them. Dr Paré bowed lowly, humbled and honoured that the son of the last king he served had requested his services.

"I hope you understand when I say that whatever is spoken in the room stays between us three," Francis said to the doctor.

"Of course, Your Majesty," Paré replied, gesturing to his tools. "Shall we... get started?"

Francis swallowed hard. "I..."

"It is just a check-up," Ambroise assured him. "The actual treatment will not come until after my diagnosis."

"And what does this... check-up entail?"

"A non-invasive inspection," Ambroise told him. "Or shall we wait until you are ready, Your Majesty?"

_Now or never_, Francis thought. "Do it. How do you want me?"

"Just take a seat and relax."

...

"...Oh, Mary, it tastes just like home," Kenna said as they ate dinner.

Mary turned to her half-brother grateful for bringing the ingredients of the soup they ate. "It does, doesn't it?"

"Scotland and I," Greer began. "Have a love-hate relationship of late. But this signifies the good days. When we were little girls."

Mary beamed. "Indeed."

Francis stared down at the soup. It made him sick, for a number of reasons and the taste was an acquired one. "I must thank you, Earl Moray. For treating us to a lovely Scottish dinner. I know that Mary has been missing Scotland a lot recently."

James smiled politely. "You are most welcome. I am happy to return here to see her. And the children. It was a shock, seeing them for the first time. I hope to see them more often. With gifts, of course."

"Hmm," Francis hummed distractedly.

Kenna turned to Bash with a frown. "Don't you like it?"

Bash smiled wryly, taking a small amount on his spoon and eating it. "It's very... _flavourful_."

Castleroy nodded, beaming. "I believe they used peppercorn."

The women snorted, Bash smirking as Castleroy and James looked on in confusion.

"Oh, darling," Greer muttered, keeping her smile back. "They even used saffron. Can you taste it?"

"Oh, I can!" Castleroy replied, eagerly eating some more.

Francis watched on as everyone ate, pulled faces (in Bash, Catherine and Leeza's cases as Claude had become accustomed to Scottish cuisine during her years there) and he smiled sadly. None the wiser to what was wrong.

He felt Mary's hand on his forearm and he turned to give her a warm smile which she returned. He then removed her hand, kissed it and stood up.

"Excuse me, I have matters to attend to," he said. "Don't get up on my behalf. Enjoy the meal."

He left the dining hall and found the children giggling as they hid behind the walls. He chuckled, coming to lean against it. He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at his son, daughters and nephew.

"And what do we have here?" He asked.

Rose shrugged. "Do you hate Partan Bree?"

Francis narrowed his eyes. "No..."

"You're lying!" Anne cried out, laughing. "Mother knows. Your face says it all!"

Francis met Robin's eyes. "Uncle Bash hates it too."

Robin snorted, waving that off. "My mother deliberately had it done fortnightly just to spite him when we were at Avon," he said. "I don't know how, but women know everything."

Francis's smile left his face. "They do, don't they?" He mumbled. "Robert, I need your help with a letter."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Robin replied quickly following after him as John led the girls away, laughing about an inside joke.

Francis led him downstairs to Nostradamus's quarters where the seer and doctor shared a nod just as the door opened.

"I hope you don't mind, I thought Robert could learn a few things," Francis told them. "He wants to be a doctor."

Robin's eyes lit up and he smiled, nodding. "That's... true."

"A very honourable profession," Paré gruffed out, clearing his throat before he gestured for the King to take a seat. "It is as I suspected."

"And what did you suspect?"

"Mastoiditis," Paré told him. "It is not easy to cure the infection, it may recur if there is not a permanent solution. That solution, I am afraid, is beyond our time."

Francis nodded. "And what will happen to me in the meantime?"

"Dizziness, hearing loss, abscess in the neck which could very well spread to the brain-"

"Are there any short-term relief?" Francis asked, now pacing the room. "Something to tide me over."

"We can only repeatedly drain any pus to relieve pain and perhaps stem the blood loss," Paré replied. "Or trepanation."

Francis closed his eyes. "Where did you study again? I recall my father talking about you on his deathbed, days before he died. He was always so... _in awe_ of you. You had saved many lives."

"Hôtel-Dieu, Your Majesty," Ambroise replied. "My older brother had been a surgeon before me and I took great interest. I have learnt a lot in my career, Your Majesty - I even have written many investigations and methodical studies over the years. But this is beyond my knowledge or expertise and I would be most humbled if you would allow me to try all that I can to save your life."

Francis opened his eyes and nodded. "Very well. How soon do you need to begin?"

"Whenever you are ready," Ambroise said.

"Perhaps a week's time," Francis told him before excusing himself. He couldn't breathe.

Paré turned to Robin and gave him a warm smile. "How are you with blood?"

Robin raised his eyebrows. "I have been to war."

"Then I have some books for you to read, young man," Paré told him.

...

"Damn it!"

Claude frowned, coming over to place her hands on Leith's shoulders. "What is it?"

Leith sighed heavily, shaking his head. "It's nothing. I need to go and see what Francis needs me to-"

"Leith, talk to me," Claude told him. "We used to share a bed. Can't you be open with me?"

Leith set his jaw and shook. Tears sprung to his eyes and he bowed his head, placing his hand on Claude's one. He couldn't believe it. He thought he'd get used to it but the pain he felt now was unreal. It was like he was reliving his arm being injured and amputated all over again.

"Am I less of a man?"

Claude frowned deeply, cupping his cheek. "Leith, what?"

"Am I... less of a man?" He repeated, turning to face her. "I can't even... I can't wield a sword as I once could, I am limited in what I can do."

"Be grateful it was not your dominant hand, Leith," Claude told him. "It is not easy, I can't pretend to know what you're going through but as long as you're alive, that is all that matters."

Leith sniffled and nodded. "That's true." _But the pain_, he thought.

"A doctor who once served my father," Claude began. "He is around. Perhaps you should seek counsel?"

Leith swallowed hard. "Perhaps."

"Come on, let's see Lawrence," Claude told him. "He will be glad to see you. You are his hero - one-armed or not."

Leith laughed softly. "He believes I am his hero?"

"Every man is their son's hero," Claude said before she gasped at what she said. "Not that-"

"He's my son," Leith told her firmly. "We are to be married, he will be my son and my heir. If you want children, I will do my best to grant you that wish."

Claude smiled happily, hugging his arm. "You are a kind man. I wish we could have got together before I was married off to Luc but... I wouldn't have had Lawrence and I love him."

"I love him too," Leith whispered before wincing. "Perhaps I should seek the doctor."

"I will walk you there-"

"You don't have to-"

"I want to," Claude told him firmly. "Your woes are my woes. Now, let's go and see if there is anything to relieve this pain that is in your head."

Leith gave her a small smile, leaning his head against hers. "You're wonderful."

"Well, it's a breath of fresh air being with a man that respects me and doesn't fight against my family but for them," Claude replied easily. "Come now, perhaps I will treat you to a bath and a back massage. I know you deserve one for all that you've done."

Leith smirked. "I am not saying 'no' to that!"

...

"Have a drink," Mary told her half-brother as they took seats in her seating room.

"You are very settled here in France," her brother stated. "More so than you had been when you first arrived to marry His Majesty."

Mary smiled warmly, her eyes lowering down. "I guess having children does that."

"Their names," James began. "Forever etched into my mind."

"And how do yours fare? Bastards and all?"

James smiled wryly, raising his eyebrows. "You know about them?"

"I make it a habit to know about your life," Mary replied. "You claimed them?"

"My wife doesn't appreciate that," he told her.

"Men are easily forgiven."

James eyed her. "Was Francis easily forgiven when he conquered Scotland?"

"He didn't conquer Scotland," Mary told her brother.

James scoffed. "He's not exactly Consort is he?"

Mary stood and looked out the window where Francis was playing tag with the children. "It was a decision needed to be done."

"Was it really?" James asked. "You didn't fight at all. Didn't he fight for the French throne when you plotted to have his bastard brother legitimised?"

"Didn't I fight for the Scottish throne when they plotted to have _you_ put on it?" Mary retorted. "You've no right to question my decisions. I am a queen-"

"Consort."

"And what if I am content with that?"

Her half-brother took a large gulp from his drink and stood. "Do you know how much the Tudors hated our family for ruling Scotland? They wanted our throne but you ended up giving it up to the French."

"The French have the support of the Vatican," Mary replied. "And you forget, I am half-French."

Her brother nodded. "Perhaps too French, I dare say."

"James..." Mary said warningly. "Watch your-"

"They've banned me from Parliament," he confessed. "Was it your doing?"

"No-"

"The French's?"

"No."

"I was replaced by Lord Douglas," James told her, rounding the chaise to stand behind her. "Mary, if you truly want to put a distance between us, have the decency to say it to my face. You do not trust me-"

"I trust you!"

He watched her turn around to face him. "Then why has it taken this long for me to meet my nephews and nieces?"

Mary blinked. "I don't know where you've been, perhaps hiding under a damned rock but over the thirteen years since my firstborn's birth, we have had attempts - kidnappings, coups, civil wars and recently a full-on continental war! I am sorry I did not spare a thought to the half-brother I had in Scotland or any for that matter, as I was worried about being a good queen to all of our people and making sure the kingdoms did not fall without my husband's presence."

James swallowed hard. "I see."

"You see?" She spat angrily.

"Your Maj-"

"Now is a little too late for formalities," she said, rolling her eyes. "I thought we could fix things between us, the hate or resentment... You are the only family I have left in the world apart from Francis, our children and his family... I need to know I can trust you if I need help."

"And your husband wouldn't help you?"

Mary sighed. "Scotland is our home, James. Even Francis can be blind to that fact as the people of Scotland know what's best for her. There's only so much whispering in his ear I can do. I need you to carry out his orders to the highest regard. Can you do that?"

"How can I if my place has been-"

"Regency," Mary cut him off. "I made arrangements for Douglas to take your place. To make sure the blood of the Stuarts remained in control. He and Robert may be Beatons but they act in Scotland's and our family's interests. Francis will come to you with the official offer - it's why we accepted your visit."

James's eyes widened. "But-"

"Don't be so surprised," Mary said coyly. "You've proven your loyalty."

"About time," her brother said lightly before bowing low. "It would be an honour to serve His and Her Majesties as Regent of Scotland."

"Power is limited in your hands, remember that," Mary told him. "More wine?"

"If we must drink to it," James replied, nodding curtly.

...

Mary smiled when she caught Francis waving her over. She bade her ladies 'goodnight' before hurrying off to link her arm with Francis's with a bright smile.

"Waiting for me?"

"Only you," he replied, kissing her cheek as a few noblewomen passed by, curtseying and trying to receive his gaze. He didn't humour them, merely stared at his wife. "So beautiful."

Mary giggled, shaking her head. "Seriously?" She asked dubiously. "After six children, I am still beautiful?"

"I dare think that being with child increases your beauty," he told her. "Perhaps we should plan the next one."

"No," Mary said, laughing. "No, no, no."

Francis laughed loudly. "Very well."

His hold on her tightened and she noticed, turning to him with concerned eyes. He gave her a smile and she returned it, albeit wary. Unless he told her, she couldn't pry too much otherwise he'd be a closed book. Not that he was a closed book but there was a time when she refused to tell him about the prophecy.

When they got to their bedchambers, Mary immediately went to get dressed for bed as he went over to their seating area, lying down on the chaise.

"Is everything alright, my love?" Mary asked from behind the screen. She wasn't bothered about changing in front of her husband but she thought the separating item will let him be more open.

Francis sighed heavily. "Yes. Just thinking about crops for the year," he replied. "I wish to secure some more deals with the Germans."

"Wasn't today enough negotiating?"

"Well, some nobles are on Spain's side," Francis said. "I want to entice them."

Mary laughed softly. "My husband, always thinking about the future."

_Somebody has to. Especially when it's one without me_, Francis thought. "Yes, my love."

"Well, ease your mind," Mary said, coming around the screen and running her fingers down her hair. "And hurry up and join me in bed. Just sleeping tonight, I'm horribly shattered."

"Actually, I need to see Bash about something," Francis told her, sitting up with a wince. "I'm so foolish sometimes."

"I can fetch Dr Paré," Mary said, crossing her arms.

"You know he's here?"

"Why is he here?" Mary asked carefully.

Francis beamed. "Robin came to me. He no longer wishes to be a soldier. He wants to take up Medicine. I want to convince Bash to be open with the idea."

"You are too good," Mary said proudly, coming to sit on his lap and kissing his lips. "You love our children, our nieces and our nephews. You are so kind and loving."

"I am considering offering three year's payment to Hôtel-Dieu so he can be taught there with the best when he's of age," Francis told her. "It's a much honourable job than serving a king as his ward."

"I am sure Robin is grateful all the same," Mary replied, cupping his cheek. "Be careful, Francis."

Francis blinked and nodded shakily. "I will. Excuse me."

She stood and he got up, leaving quickly. Mary stared after him, wrapping her arms around her waist for some comfort. She knew he was hiding something and that something made her stomach twist in knots. And not the good kind.

...

"Bash, I need to speak-Oh, God-"

"Francis!" Bash cried out, jumping off Kenna as she started to laugh.

Bash quickly covered his wife up as he gave his brother, whose eyes were now shut closed, an incredulous look, gesturing to the doors.

"Ever heard of knocking?" Bash asked him.

Francis kept his eyes shut. "Well, one can say this is an emergency."

"Leith-"

"That only a brother can handle it," Francis cut him off.

"One would think he's never seen a naked woman's body," he heard Kenna say teasingly as a lot of movement occurred.

"Kenna!" Bash cried out before laughing. "You never cease to surprise me. Why am I surprised? I'll be right back." He promised her with a kiss.

Bash pulled his trousers on and then his boots before he left the bed and picked up his discarded shirt from the ground. He then wore it and turned his brother around, pushing him to the doors.

"You better have a very good reason to disrupt my wife and me," he said lightly when they left, Bash closing the door securely behind him.

"Your wife is too much," Francis said, finally opening his eyes and turning to his brother.

"I know," Bash said, starting to walk off. "Come on then."

They ended up in Francis's offices, seated side to side underneath furs by the roaring fire, warm wine on the table in front of them them. Francis stared at the flames, smiling wryly.

"The last time we were like this..."

Bash sighed. "My first wedding day."

"How far we've come," Francis mumbled, curling his legs underneath him. "You saved my life."

"I will always save your life," Bash replied, turning to him. "I don't care if you're my worst enemy. You are my brother, Francis. And I'd rather a live nemesis than a dead one. More fun that way."

Francis laughed, covering his face. "I can't imagine a life without you in it."

"Oh, Francis... I didn't know we'll be doing the sentimental thing," Bash said, surprised. "Uh, I guess you're good to keep around too?"

Francis playfully rolled his eyes. "Stop. Just listen, will you?"

"Fine. But I am timing this. My wife will only wait a certain amount of time before she closes the bank so to say," Bash told him.

"Very well," Francis mumbled even though he knew that Kenna wouldn't mind anyway. "Dr Paré is here."

Bash nodded once. "I've taken notice."

"Robin wishes to be a doctor."

"Right."

"You're not surprised?"

Bash chuckled. "When Robin was little, all he wanted to be was a bear for some reason. Then he wanted to be a lion before a soldier, then a druid. Now, a doctor. I think I prefer him being a doctor over a druid."

"He's a good boy, Bash. You raised a good boy," Francis told him.

"I never thought I could be a good parent. It helps to have a good wife to keep me grounded," Bash replied. "Anyway, I _know_ this wasn't to talk about my son. You said this was an emergency. Sitting by the fire with wine doesn't seem like too much of an emergency."

"I might as well come out with it," Francis mumbled.

Bash nodded. "Please do," he said, taking a sip of his drink.

Francis took a deep breath in before saying, "I'm thinking about making Mary's half-brother regent in Scotland."

Bash frowned. "Oh, a good choice. I am sure it will build bridges between Mary and James."

"Yes," Francis said, nodding. "Exactly. It's a wise decision to make and it will be in effect the minute he returns to Scotland. We can trust him."

"I wouldn't trust James Stewart as far as I can throw a stone," Bash said, the rim of his cup on his lips. "But if this is a way to keep your enemies closer..."

"I will give him the benefit of the doubt," Francis replied.

"If you're certain," Bash told him, placing his finished drink down and getting up. "Anyway, if that is all-"

"I'm dying."

Bash sat back down, turning to Francis with wide eyes. "What?"

Francis bowed his head. "I'm dying, Bash."

Bash shook his head. "That can't be... No. Francis, if this is a sick joke-"

"I wouldn't do that," Francis said. "Not with something like this."

Bash covered his face. "How long do you have?"

"Nine, ten months?" Francis replied, unsure. "I am doing everything I can to prevent it. I can't do it alone."

Bash pulled his brother to his chest and held him tightly. "We'll get through this. We will find a cure, save your life and we can go back to drinking ourselves stupid in front of the fire."

Francis sniffled. "I'm tired, Bash."

"Shh, just... sleep," Bash mumbled, pressing a kiss onto Francis's head. "Remember the lullaby Governess d'Humières used to sing to you?"

"Yes," Francis croaked out.

"How does it go again?" Bash asked himself. "Oh, right yes. _Au clair de la lune, Mon ami Pierrot, Prête-moi ta plume, Pour écrire un mot. Ma chandelle est morte, Je n'ai plus de feu. Ouvre-moi ta porte, Pour l'amour de Dieu._"

As Bash continued, Francis fell asleep, feeling his brother's fingers pet his hair. It was like their childhood again and a smile settled on his face. No crowns, no duties, no countries. Just two little boys, getting ready for bed and begging their governess to sing and sing and sing.

"_Mais je sais qu'la porte, Sur eux se ferma,_" Bash finished. He glanced down and sighed, wiping his tears.

A knock on the door drew his attention to it and he was relieved to see Francis still asleep. As quiet and gentle as he could muster, he culled the person inside.

Mary.

"Is he asleep?" Mary asked, disappointed.

"Yes," Bash said quietly. "We have more to talk about tonight, the drink hit us harder than we thought. Not as young as we once were." He chuckled wryly. "Can you send Kenna a message? That I won't be returning to our bed this night after all."

Mary nodded shakily and planted a small smile on her face. "He looks so peaceful. Lately, he's been..."

"Yes?"

"Worried. Stressed?" Mary tried, shaking her head. "I don't know and he won't tell me anything."

"He doesn't speak to me either," Bash lied. "But I'm sure it's just anxiety. Over returning to running everything."

Mary nodded. "You're probably right. I will see him in the morning then. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Mary left the offices, closing the door behind her. She swallowed down the lump in her throat and kept her composure. _Why won't he tell me anything? Why does Bash get that honour?_

She scolded herself, sounding like a petulant child. Of course, Francis had known Bash his whole life, some things were kept between siblings, not spouses and she had to accept that.

She just hoped it wasn't anything life-threatening.

Her chest tightened with fear.

* * *

**Au clair de la lune is a French lullaby made in the 18th century but I found it fitting in this story that is set at least two centuries prior.**


	71. An Ailing Husband For The Queen

**Replies to reviews:**

**BlerBlerBler [chapter 70]: It will get worse until it gets better.**

**Guest (1) [chapter 70]: It is, I hate writing sad stuff! Francis and Bash's relationship is amazing, seriously one to compete with. In this chapter, Francis has moments with other characters.**

****elder441 [chapter 70]: I hated the show for 'following' the real history. As much as I'd like to keep everything off canon, some parts are canon to help the storyline flow. At first, this story was going to be one-shots before becoming a full-fledged story so I wanted this to be 'realistic' but at the same time what I'd want to see if Reign had chosen to keep Francis alive. The family will do everything to keep him alive and so far, 60% is his survival rate in this current time of the story.****

* * *

Come morning, Bash awoke to something heavy on his chest. He was very uncomfortable and he knew he'd have back pain but he didn't mind. He looked at the fireplace and saw that it was now scorched black and the room felt colder.

Carefully, he slipped out from Francis's grip and pulled the furs over the king's body before writing a message for him and leaving. He found that it was still quite early, only servants and guards were about.

He headed to Robin's bedchambers and was surprised to see the boy already awake. "I need your help."

"With what?" Robin asked, closing a heavy book.

"Finding a woman."

Robin chuckled. "Oh, how would Mother take to that?"

Bash smirked lightly. "Not that kind of woman, Robert. Finding her is important though. The country depends on it."

"In what way?"

"I can't tell you now but it is important, I swear," Bash replied.

Robin studied his father and narrowed his eyes a little. "Is this something to do with Uncle Francis?"

Bash turned to him in surprise. "Do you... know?"

"I do," Robin mumbled, getting up from his seat and shifting on his feet nervously. "I had a vision. My first vision into the future. In the vision, he died and I told him."

"Why didn't you tell me that you-"

"Because you're already wary of my powers," Robin cut his father off. "If I could now see the future, you and Mother would have more of a reason to stop me from having them. You will believe that I won't be able to handle it."

Bash bowed his head. "Visions into the future have not done this family any favours," he said. "But very well. What do you know?"

By the time Robin explained everything, they were disturbed by a knock on the door. Francis peeked his head inside and smiled a little when he saw the pair.

"I was wondering if you'd both like to go for a ride?" He asked. "Away from prying ears."

Bash nodded. "I will meet you both outside in ten minutes."

...

"I think Winter is my favourite season," Francis said once they were far enough in the woods but close enough for safety. "It's so peaceful. The snow is not so bad either."

Bash smiled. "It snowed the day you were born," he said, gaining Robin's attention away from Hope the Fox. "I hate the snow. The Scots adore it. It's crazy, how they're accustomed to freezing their arses off for months on end."

"Do you think Scotland would be a peaceful place to die in?"

"Francis!"

"Uncle Francis!"

Francis raised his hands, laughing slightly. "Can't the dying man joke now?"

"You're not going to die," Bash said firmly. "I have a plan."

"Care to enlighten me with the plan?"

Bash sighed, shaking his head. "I don't even know if it will be effective. We will see."

Francis raised his eyebrows but didn't say anything more, taking to closing his eyes and inhaling the fresh air. "If there's nothing we can do, don't dwell. I'm going to need you to support Mary and our children as best as you can."

"We will do whatever you want, Uncle Francis," Robin replied. "But you won't die. We will make sure of it and Dr Paré will find a solution. He's a great doctor! I spent all night studying his journals and books. He's a genius."

"Stay hopeful," Francis told him. "Hope is a powerful weapon. Even when things are not in your favour."

Bash steadied his horse as they came up to the frozen lake. "I have something better than hope," he told his brother. "Determination."

Francis let out a soft chuckle. "What I am going to say will sound crazy but I want to skate on the ice."

Robin looked towards the frozen lake warily. "It doesn't look solid..."

"If you catch a cold, your mother and your wife will have my head," Bash told him lightly. "We can ride around it."

Francis ignored them, getting off his horse. "What the dying man wants, the dying man gets."

"What the dying man should realise," Bash began, getting off his own horse. "Is that this may fully well quicken his death."

Francis laughed and carefully got down onto the lake, testing it by tapping his foot against the ice. "It's solid enough."

"Francis, come back up-"

"Where's your sense of adventure?!" Francis called out.

Bash rolled his eyes. "Forgive me, I left it back at the castle. But don't worry, I brought along my sense of sensibility and will to live and not freeze to death."

Francis shrugged and started to skate, feeling his brother's steely eyes on him. If he did fall into the lake, it wouldn't be the first time his brother would have to fish him out. He could see Bash cursing as he lowered himself down onto the ice and Robin getting off his horse.

Even Hope the Fox joined him, running circles around a laughing Francis. He bent down and lifted the animal into his arms as Bash reached him, resisting the urge to smack him for being so stupid.

"I guess it _is_ solid," he muttered.

"There are so many things I would like to do with my children," Francis began as they skated on. "I will write a list. One of them will be kite-flying. I had a few imported for the boys' birthdays."

"Interesting," Bash mumbled, fiddling with the rope on his side. _Just in case_.

"Oh, we can do apple picking when it is in season!" Francis continued, skating circles around Bash now once the man stopped.

"Splendid choice."

"More enthusiasm wouldn't hurt," Francis said teasingly.

Bash scoffed before a tight smile grew on his face. "I am sure the Princesses will _love_ to go apple picking, Your Majesty."

"Less sarcasm," Francis said, laughing.

"On a serious note," Bash started, quickly checking on Robin who was waiting patiently at the bank. "Don't you think this has come on so suddenly?"

Francis frowned. "How do you mean?"

"You were in good health before the war and now," Bash trailed off, unsure. "Who served you during the war?"

"Robin, John and the royal food taster," Francis replied. "All still breathe."

Bash eyed his son. "So the royal taster would not have had the chance to poison you?"

"Bash-"

"Some Scottish and English forces came to help, near the end," Bash stated. "I've familiarised myself with the reports. Did any of their wards serve you?"

Francis blinked in surprised. "Once or twice. They served Prince William of Orange." He sighed heavily. "Bash, be careful about what you are insinuating. Those who regent the countries are Mary's family-"

"Elizabeth wanted Mary to make Anne the heir to the English throne," Bash said. "Mary told Kenna and my wife told me."

"That won't be able to happen if I am alive to reject the proposal," Francis breathed out. "Are people still wanting my death?"

"I don't know," Bash said. "I will look into this, I will do everything I can. I need you to be none the wiser. But you must give me the names of the wards who served you. I am sure we can exclude our sons."

Francis nodded. "I will find out."

"And if you are getting worse, then they must still be around," Bash said. "Ask Catherine if there are poisons that work slowly."

"I will."

"Poisons that are not easy to detect until it's..."

"Too late."

Bash cupped Francis's cheeks. "We will get to the bottom of this."

"I don't know what I'd do without you," Francis said shakily. "Be my Deputy again - Leith is retiring prematurely."

Bash closed his eyes, bringing his hands down. "I don't know."

"I need you. Without you, I wouldn't have even thought that all of this was too... _suspicious,_" Francis told him. "I would have died and everyone would have found out then."

"Francis-"

"Please."

Bash nodded.

...

Francis poured two cups full of wine and gestured for the person to take a seat. She did and he gave her a warm smile, taking a sip from his wine.

"I have asked Bash to return as my King's Deputy."

Kenna furrowed her brows but nodded. "I see," she mumbled, sipping her wine. "I am guessing it has something to do with Leith's retirement?"

"Yes," Francis said. "I need someone I can trust."

"He couldn't tell me himself, could he?" Kenna asked, strained.

Francis winced. "I know, the whole reason he stopped was for you and your family. He puts his life at risk for my sake but I promise you, Kenna, times have changed. I need him more now than ever."

Kenna faltered. "Francis, you weren't there," she whispered. "You don't know how hard it was for me to wake up in the morning without knowing if he was alive or dead. He promised me and you're making him break his promise."

Kenna stopped herself from saying more. She was addressing a king, she even used a first-name basis with him, something others apart from his family would never try. They may have become friends over the years but she was still a noblewoman, his wife's lady-in-waiting and her inferior rank will outdo her superior one of being the wife of his favourite sibling.

"I know as a king, you must make difficult decisions," Kenna continued anyway. "Over the years, everything you ask of my husband or of me have got way over all of our heads. Will his death mean the end of those requests?"

Francis smiled wryly. "Kenna, what I am going to tell you must stay between us."

Kenna gasped softly, nodding. "Yes, of course."

"I haven't got long to live," Francis told her, tears springing to her eyes and she closed them. "I need you to look after Mary and our children. I need you to support her whatever the outcome. She needs people she can trust because when she becomes-"

"_If_-"

"If she becomes regent, then the French may very well revolt within reason," Francis finished. "Whatever loyalty you have to my wife, please extend it to your nieces and nephews."

Kenna nodded. "Yes, I will," she said, her voice breaking. "I'll do anything for her, for them. But Francis, I know my husband."

"I know. I know my brother and I have no doubt that he will do all in his power to save my life," Francis told her, not telling her that her son was also involved. "But I can feel the pain every day and although I tell you all to have hope, hope has long since left _me,_ myself."

Kenna got onto her knees and gripped his hand in her two own. "I will pray for you. I will help you, however, I can. You are a good man, a good _king_ and you don't deserve death. Not after everything we have all been through." She bowed her head. "Tell Mary. Tell her."

"I can't."

"You have to," Kenna said, looking up at him. She wiped a tear from his cheek. "She's worried sick. She thinks you don't trust her. Men have wives for a reason. Not just to bear the children, but to be _there_ and support you. To love you and hold you. I am just your subject but I beg you. I beg you."

Francis looked away and sighed heavily. "When the time is right."

"And when will that be? On your deathbed?" Kenna asked dubiously.

Blue eyes met brown.

"I promised Mary that any tear she let fall would not be in pain," Francis whispered. "When it is time for her to know, she will know."

Kenna stood and hugged him tightly. "As you wish," she mumbled before letting go and leaving.

Francis sighed and poured himself more wine.

...

Come April, the investigation had met a dead end. Bash rubbed his face hard as he left the cell, instructing the guards to feed the prisoners for more questioning the next morning.

He'd give them the rest of the day to recover and rethink their decision to withhold the information he needed.

One path opened up though and Robin handed his father a message as they headed to the throne hall for the celebration of the twins' birthday. Bash opened the message and scanned the contents.

"One-hundred miles East," Robin stated.

"Should take two days then," Bash mumbled lowly as guards passed them.

Robin nodded. "I'm coming with you."

"No."

"Who is she?"

"None of your concern," Bash replied.

"Father, this is our _King's_ life at stake here," Robin began, lowering his voice. "I want to do everything I can to help."

Bash turned to him. "Your mother and I are already tense, do you want to add more fuel to the fire?"

Robin rolled his eyes and they continued to walk in silence, planting smiles on when the birthday boys came over to pull them to the heaps of presents in the middle of the hall.

"There you are," Mary said from beside Francis. "They wouldn't start until their favourite uncle arrived."

Bash chuckled, ruffling the boys' hair as he shook his head at Francis. "Is that right? Well, go and open your presents."

As everyone busied themselves with helping Joseph and Peter open their gifts, Francis and Bash took a corner of the room, speaking in hushed tones.

"I've found one lead," Bash said.

Francis nodded weakly. "They're suspecting something's wrong."

"Tell them."

"Not yet."

"Francis, please," Bash begged him. "I can't stand seeing Mary so lost. Kenna says she's quiet, we've noticed that she barely eats as well. She's worried about her husband, her king. Do her the courtesy-"

Francis slumped against the wall and Bash reached out to steady him. "J-Just take me to... my bedchambers."

"Yours?" Bash questioned. "I-"

"Just take me there," Francis ordered him tightly. "Call Ambroise."

Bash nodded. "Can you walk?"

"Give me a minute to get my bearings," Francis mumbled, gripping onto Bash tightly. "I'm ready now."

"Papa?" Anne called him as she noticed the men trying to sneak out. "Where are you going? They've not opened the ones you gave them yet!"

Francis chuckled softly. "I am feeling very tired," he said, ignoring his wife's and mother's concerned gazes.

"Too much chamomile?" Leeza asked lightly. "You ought to drink honey tea, it will give you all the energy you need."

"I will... take that into consideration," Francis said before nodding at Bash to continue on.

But Peter ran up to him and begged him to lift him up, pulling at his leg.

"Papa, please? Stay?"

Bash made sure that Francis was steady on his own two feet before he bent down and lifted the youngest prince. "How about _I_ carry you? Let's see what else you and Joseph have got."

He and Francis went back to the circle and Kenna pursed her lips, crossing her arms. Both men gave her a look and she returned them with one of her own, her eyes darting to Mary.

Francis looked away, keeping his gaze on the little princes that opened the gifts on the floor. He felt faint and black spots were starting to form in his eyes, the room spinning around him.

Bash had now put Peter down to run to his brothers, their older sisters helping them rip the paper off gifts and the man slung a casual arm over his brother's shoulders.

Francis blinked repeatedly to dispel the dizziness and spots but he began to shake and the next thing he knew...

"Francis?!"

"Francis!"

"Papa!"

He'd fainted.

...

"If you don't tell her, I will," Kenna told Francis once he had woken up.

He let out a soft groan, sitting up to see that they were alone but Ambroise was working at Francis's desk, writing and muttering to himself about what do to.

"We must start the treatment now. Your neck has swelled," Ambroise said, not looking up from his work.

Kenna glared at Francis. "Your wife is currently in pieces. Your sisters are consoling her, she keeps trying to come but you have to rest."

"Only her," Francis mumbled. "Where's Bash?"

"Did you forget?" Kenna asked him, her voice laced with anger. "You sent him on an errand away from the castle."

Francis frowned. _When_? "Oh, right."

"When he returned to being your Deputy, I was thinking he'd stay _here_ and order those lemmings about," Kenna bemoaned. "Thank God, Robin wants to be a doctor because his wife would probably have less patience for him than I have for Bash."

Francis winced. He wasn't in the mood to hear Kenna complain although he knew she was holding back when it concerned him and his brother. "Tell Mary to come. Only her."

"I will," Kenna said, standing up and fixing her skirts. She curtseyed. "Get well soon, Your Majesty."

"Why do I hear the insincerity?" Francis asked, smirking a little.

Kenna rolled her eyes. "I am sincere, alright. But you men really do put us, women, through a lot."

She left and soon after Mary entered tentatively. She closed the doors behind her and came to stand before the bed, her dark eyes meeting Francis's light ones. She sighed and crossed her arms.

"Tell me the truth."

"Promise me you won't..."

"What?"

Francis shrugged. "Hate me?"

Mary let out a sob, her facade failing. "Hate you? How could I hate you? You're my husband, Francis. I have loved you most of my life! I'm not going to stop now. Or ever."

"You're beautiful when you're angry."

Mary glared at him. "I will show you angry!"

"I'm sorry," Francis quickly said, laughing. "Please, come." He held his hand out for her.

Mary eyed it warily and sighed, walking around the bed and getting into the other side, taking his hand. "You are ill, my love. A wife knows her husband better than he knows himself."

Francis smiled sadly. "I'm dying."

"Then I have failed you-"

"Mary-"

"I have failed you," Mary whispered. "I didn't change anything but the time. Nostradamus' prophecy is coming true."

Francis cupped her cheek, wiping her fallen tear. "Even when you're distressed, you're the most beautiful thing I have ever seen."

Mary looked down at him, cradling his head on her lap now. "Most kings and queens do not love each other, their marriages are alliances, convenience. But our marriage is full of love and happiness. Francis, you have made my life so bright and as a girl, I never knew that this was my future. Thank you."

Francis sniffled and met her lips in a soft kiss. He felt her tears on his face and he squeezed her hand as they pulled apart. "I don't want the children to know. To remember me like this."

Mary let out a sob. "I won't say anything." _But it will kill me_.

"Mary, you will be protected and cared for," Francis told her. "You needn't worry. Scotland and England are yours..."

"What?"

"I made arrangements," he explained. "There are some things that I can't explain but one day, you will understand." He swallowed hard. "I have had our Ambassadors travel to the Netherlands. France and the Netherlands are under one sovereign. Me."

Mary stared at him in disbelief. "Francis, why would you-"

"Mary, just listen," Francis breathed out. "Anne is fifteen next year, she will marry Oskar a month after, here in France."

"I thought we'd wait until she was sixteen."

"We need to start putting arrangements into place," he told her. "Secure our rule. As for Scotland, England and Ireland, Rose will be the heir. I am looking for a suitable match for her. An English or a Scottish one of Tudor or Stuart blood."

Mary blinked a few times before pausing in shock. She had no words.

"Francis-"

"I know I've fought against this for so long but this could protect our family," he said gently. "A French Queen in Sweden and a French Queen in Scotland." He took her hand. "I am planning for Leeza to marry the Emperor of Prussia. He plans to crown himself King of Prussia."

Mary frowned. "How did you get this information?"

"Leith did some research before he retired," Francis replied. "As for the Archduke of Vienna, he's fallen in favour of the Emperor so the marriage alliance between his second daughter and Joseph might be in the works as well."

"I promised Robin he could marry the Archduchess of Prussia... If her father is to be king then he can't," Mary replied.

Francis sighed. "We will see. Mary, I'm going to need you to stay strong for me."

Mary bit her lip and nodded. "I will try." She looked up at Paré. "Is there anything you can do?"

"Is His Majesty comfortable?" Paré replied.

Francis kept his eyes on Mary. "I am."

"Then, we will not delay the treatment."

...

Four days later, Francis was back on his feet. In fact, he was feeling far better than he had been feeling in months. Mary was still wary, taking to following him everywhere from the chamberpot to council meetings and meals.

She refused to let him out of her eyesight and Catherine had noticed. She played it off, saying that he suffered from the flu and he was feeling better now. He certainly looked it, much to her relief.

"Francis, what you said four days ago-"

"Mary, I didn't mean to keep you out of it," Francis began, stopping in his tracks to face her and cup her cheeks. "Everything I said stands. I wasn't delirious or incoherent - I am of sound mind."

Mary gaped. "Have you forgotten what happened between Scotland and France?"

"No one will ever forget that," Francis said. "But we have gained more favour over the past seven years. Especially with our victory against Spain and Portugal, people will be more willing to support whatever we propose to them."

"_You_ propose to them," Mary corrected. "Francis, what am I supposed to do? Support France and the Netherlands or Scotland, England and Ireland?"

"Both. You are the mother of their future rulers," Francis replied, his eyes meeting Bash's eyes. "I have to go. But you should not worry. Everything will fall into place. I love you, Mary."

Mary sighed and nodded, a smile growing on her lips albeit small. "I love you too, Francis," she whispered. "I better go and find my ladies and give you a breather."

He kissed her and left her side, joining Bash's as they headed to his offices.

"Well, what did you do when you were gone?"

Bash turned to face him. "I sought a woman. Not a witch, don't worry. We've had enough of those for a lifetime. But this woman's life was linked to yours."

"In what way? The way that Kenna and you are-"

"Not romantically, like soul mates," Bash cut him off. "But linked nonetheless and I had to break the bond."

Francis frowned. "Kill her?"

"I'd do it again if need be," Bash replied.

"Is that why I've been... _better_?"

Bash nodded. "For now. It's not a permanent fix. But it is a start."

"Question more of the servants and have soldiers check every Scot, English and Irish person who comes to France," Francis said. "I've got my mother doing research on long-acting poisons. I've stalled her interest, for now, citing that I'm curious about the study of poisons but she is no fool."

"No, she is not," Bash agreed. "How is the treatment?"

"Tedious, painful but-"

"Needed," Bash finished with a small smile.

Francis smiled wryly. "We should go on a hunting trip soon. Whilst I'm still walking of my own accord."

"I'll look forward to it," Bash replied before bowing and leaving.

Francis shifted over to the wall and leaned against it, closing his eyes. Once he felt better, he fixed himself and looked around to see if anyone saw. He couldn't have news of his impending death spreading around.

But like the observant woman she was, Catherine witnessed and heard everything.

She set her jaw and went in search of the Queen of Scots.


	72. A Secretive Half-Brother & Queen

**Guys, my writer's block has returned somewhat. Recently, in the UK, our Prime Minister was admitted to the hospital with severe COVID-19 symptoms. I pray for every one of you, your friends and family. Together, we will get through this and when we can, give our loved ones big, tight hugs. I feel so uninspired but you guys are a great support. Stay safe, guys.**

**Replies to reviews:**

**Guest (1) [chapter 71]: I can't either! The girls find out soon. **

****elder441 [chapter 71]: We will do everything in our power to make sure Francis lives. More on the cause, cure and culprit to come next chapter. I hope you and everyone else are staying safe and healthy too. These are uncertain times and I am praying for everyone. You are all beautiful souls and thank you.****

* * *

"What is wrong with my son?"

Mary jumped and so did her ladies who turned to Catherine, mostly confused but the Queen slightly fearful.

"Catherine, what-"

"You three, out. Now," Catherine ordered the ladies and they hurried out before Mary rose from her bed and poured them drinks.

Mary offered Catherine a cup and wasn't surprised when the Queen rejected it. "I do not know what is wrong with Francis, Catherine."

"You've been attached to his side. He can't use the chamberpot without his puppy following him," Catherine snapped.

Mary smiled wryly. "He had the flu, remember? I was worried, you saw how he fainted at the gift opening."

"I guess you're right," Catherine mumbled. "Do you know if he is unwell? As in long-term?"

Mary frowned. "He would tell me."

"Francis," Catherine began carefully. "Tends to keep a lot of things from people. Me, included. If he wants, you could be none the wiser. This time, I know you know something."

Mary didn't back down. "If you are so certain, why don't you speak to Francis himself?"

"What changes has he done in his state of bed rest?"

"Ask him."

"Mary, I thought we'd be honest with each other," Catherine said, lifting a strand of Mary's hair and playing with it. "Tell me, Mary."

Mary wasn't fazed. "I have to attend to my daughters. Will we be seeing you for supper?"

"I will find out. One way or another," Catherine told her, her hand dropping to her side. "When I do, I know exactly who to blame."

Mary paused by her doors. "I guess you might only have yourself to blame."

Catherine narrowed her eyes and watched the younger woman leave.

...

"Sebastian!"

"Dear God," Bash muttered, rolling his eyes and turning to face his stepmother. "How can I be of help?"

"Drop the niceties," Catherine told him. "I heard you and Francis. What is wrong with my son?"

Bash frowned. "How do you mean?"

"Permanent fix? Painful treatment? Now be careful with your next answer, Sebastian," Catherine warned him.

Bash raised his brows. "Why don't you ask Francis himself?"

"Tell me-"

"The flu," Bash said. "He's been sick with the flu and it's a stubborn little illness. He is seeking remedies."

Catherine scoffed, eyeing Bash's horse. "Would be a shame if your horse was to become indisposed."

Bash let out a soft chuckle in disbelief. "Catherine, don't shoot the messenger. Hear it from the horse's mouth himself."

"Just tell me..." Catherine trailed off, unsure. "Is he dying?"

Bash raised an eyebrow. "Where did you get that idea?"

"We can't be too comfortable," she replied. "France depends on Francis being _healthy_. We've just won a war, and if our king dies... We will be seen as weak again."

"Francis is not dying," Bash told her. "He is perfectly fine, just getting through this stubborn flu."

Catherine started to walk away. "If you're lying, Sebastian..."

She kept her threat unsaid and she knew that he knew what she was capable of. She shivered, scolding herself for coming out without her cloak. The last time she did, she was willing to die and join her husband and dead daughters in the afterlife. April was not warm and it reflected the coldness in her chest from her worry.

Catherine wanted to live more than ever. Be involved in her present children's lives as well as their children's. Getting to know Claude's son was a blessing, the boy was very smart even though his father was a traitor and her granddaughters from Leeza were obsessed with their Italian grandmother, eager to learn her language as she pretended not to know Spanish just to spend time with them as they tutored her.

They were finally happy, Catherine had no patience for grief. Much less mourning for a king who had gained a lot of favour.

When she entered the castle, she spotted Francis and Mary laughing, sharing a quick, cheeky kiss before parting ways. The knot in her stomach loosened somewhat and she believed that maybe the young Queen and King's Deputy were telling the truth after all. Perhaps Francis was fighting the flu and wasn't dying.

Or her son was keeping his secret from them just as much as he was keeping it from her.

...

After the second week of keeping his secret, Francis woke up to find his wife staring at him curiously.

"Have I grown two heads?" He asked good-naturedly.

Mary laughed softly, pressing a kiss on his lips. "Maybe," she replied jokingly. "No, I was just thinking..."

"About...?"

"Tell everyone," she whispered. "Francis, I know you try to hide it but I know you're getting worse."

Francis swallowed hard, cupping her cheeks. "Mary, I don't want our children to-"

"They'll still love you."

"I know. But do we really want them to see me like this? Pale as a ghost, bleeding everywhere?" He asked. "I know it scares you to wake up to that most mornings. How do you think the children will take that? Caterina is not even old enough to remember me but I still don't want her to know _that_."

Mary's eyes watered and she looked away from him. "What if you just die and they wouldn't have had a chance to say goodbye properly? To not cherish the moments you would have given them? They're resilient. Look at me, I was days old when my father died and I became queen. I made it out alive."

Francis ran his fingers through her hair. "I don't think they would cope. Especially the girls-"

"The girls are strong, Francis!" Mary cried out, getting out of their bed and pacing the room. "Stronger than I ever was at their age! Perhaps since they had us both and I was only with my mother or nuns. Our daughters might just surprise you."

Francis faltered, tears spilling from his eyes. "They're children, Mary."

"But they're _our_ children," Mary breathed out. "If they are as strong as us, shouldn't we give them a chance to prove it? I would want to know if my parent was dying. Please, Francis?"

Francis covered his face before he nodded.

"Fine."

"Thank you," she whispered. "We will tell everyone over breakfast."

...

"Oh, Papa!" Anne cried out, holding a hand to her chest as she saw her father through her vanity mirror. "Don't kings know how to knock?"

Francis chuckled, pressing a kiss on the top of her head. "Is that the new lip rouge I gave you for Christmas?"

"Yes," Anne replied, putting it on and kissing her lips. "I never knew the Dutch people could do good makeup."

"Don't use too much," Francis said.

"Papa, I am a woman now," Anne said dismissively. "I have to look exquisite. Be the envy of many."

Francis pulled a face and smiled when she caught it through the mirror. "Your mother didn't like makeup. She always tried to rub it off the first chance she got. She was more-"

"Unladylike?" Anne asked teasingly. "And she's a queen!"

"We were kids-"

"She was still a queen."

Francis scowled lightly. "Fine," he said, placing his hands on her shoulders. "Anne, what would you say if you became the first Queen Marie of Sweden next year?"

Anne gasped, turning to face him fully. "I will be a queen next year?"

"Yes," Francis affirmed. "I have been speaking with King Oskar and his regent. Instead of waiting until you are sixteen, you will marry him here, in France, before leaving for your honeymoon tour and permanently residing in Sweden."

Anne blinked in surprise. "I-It's too soon."

"Too soon? My love, it's a year away."

Anne nodded shakily, planting a small smile on her face. "Well, whatever you think is best, Papa."

Francis frowned. "Don't you want to marry Oskar? I believed you liked him?"

Anne looked down at her powder. "I am not so sure about him, Papa."

"Why not?"

"Lust and love are two different things, aren't they?"

Francis nodded. "They are."

"Duty and love are also two different things," Anne said.

"I guess."

"What if I feigned love? Or even infatuation?" Anne asked quietly. "To make you and Mother happy?"

Francis gasped in realisation. "Anne, your mother and I want you to be happy. We want what is best for you and ultimately for our kingdoms. But your happiness comes first and if you do not love Oskar then..."

"I wish I was like Mama," Anne said, her voice breaking. "I'd be able to marry who I want when I want. I may even make Rose or my brothers my heirs."

"Even though she is a queen, your mother and I were still arranged to marry, to benefit France and Scotland," Francis told her gently.

"But you fell in love, or you were in love before you married!"

"Yes but-"

"I don't love Oskar! And he loves..." She faltered. "He'll have mistresses and I won't be able to _please_ him. I will be discarded and people will talk behind my back."

Francis rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "What if you spent Summer in Sweden? Gain favour with the Swedes, with Oskar."

"What if I mess things up?"

"You won't," Francis assured her. "And you know, Anne? Even if you feel nothing for him now, what's not to say that you won't fall for him or become good friends in the future? Marriage is not always about love or duty, it is about friendship and understanding. I know it is frowned upon for a queen to have a lover when her husband has his mistresses but you could find a confidante in Oskar. Don't give up just yet, darling."

Anne smiled a little. "You're right. Perhaps he'll forget all about that kitchen maid when I come to visit."

"There's my overconfident daughter," Francis said, chuckling. "Come along, it's breakfast."

...

Francis knew it was cruel. To give his daughter hope about her future, only to shatter her with the news of his impending demise. He knew he had people like his brother and nephew, doing all they could to save him but he still had to prepare for the fact that he might not make it. They didn't feel what he was feeling inside.

Claude helped Peter and Lawrence eat as it was Leeza who took over helping James and Joseph, giving Mary a much-needed break to feed Caterina. Mary was the sort of queen to feed her own babies, not always relying on wetnurses and Francis smiled across the table, making her blush and look up as if she knew he was studying her feeding their youngest.

"You better coverup," Leeza mock-whispered. "The King is becoming brazen."

The adults laughed as the older children gagged at the insinuation, making their crude aunt (or mother in Bella and Kitty's cases) laugh even more.

"You should eat more meats," Claude began, turning to Francis briefly. "You are looking pale, brother."

Francis sipped his wine. "I will take that to mind."

"Seriously?" Claude asked, surprised. "Oh, you're welcome for the advice."

He grinned. "Thank you."

"So you want to become a doctor?" Rose asked Robin, gaining a few adults' attentions. "That is very honourable, Robin!"

Robin blushed, looking down at his meal. "I have to wait until I am sixteen before attending medical school," he said. "Dr Paré has already invited me to become his apprentice when I finish." He glanced at Francis. "Observation and evidence, not spiritual belief will save a patient."

"What else have you learned from those horrid books?" Kenna asked, pulling a face from beside her curious husband. "Too much gore and detail. Do people really use red-hot irons to stem bleeding?"

"Dr Paré does!" Robin told his mother excitedly. "I have seen it happen. One of the guards went out for a ride and was attacked by an animal. He's fine now!"

The women shivered in disgust.

"Men," they muttered before sharing giggles.

"Perhaps we should invite his wife and children to stay here," Catherine began. "If his stay is long-term."

Francis nodded. "Indeed. I have given him the option, he wrote to them this morning."

"And why is he staying here for long?" Rose asked her father. "Surely he is not needed. He's a royal doctor and you are of sound mind and health."

"Are you trying to sabotage my studying?" Robin asked her as Francis sent him a grateful nod. "I will study night and day to become the best surgeon in France."

Claude nodded. "That is very good, Robin. And you know what makes me even more proud of you?"

"What, Aunt Claude?"

"The fact that you are learning from the man who will make a false arm for my future husband."

Everyone let out gasps of awe and approving murmur.

"Are those real?" Leeza asked.

"I have read that pirates have false legs!" Anne called out. "Papa, is it going to be the same for Uncle Leith?"

Francis laughed, controlling the excited chatter. "Indeed. I was surprised when Leith told me but it seems that Dr Paré will help him with that."

"The man is truly a wonder," Catherine said, raising her cup. "Is there not a miracle he can't perform?"

"Saving my life."

Everyone silenced and turned to Francis who kept his gaze down on his plate. He'd barely eaten, feeling the nausea of confessing his illness to his family increase by the second.

"Pardon?" Anne whispered, eyes wide.

Francis's eyes met her eyes, Rose's, Leeza's, Claude's, John's and finally, his mother's.

"You might have noticed that I have not been well of late," he told them. "That's because I am... well, I am dying." _I might not even make it to Christmas_.

"No, that can't be," Rose said, her voice breaking as she covered her mouth and left the table, rushing out of the room.

Anne slowly got up, using the table to steady her and she begged her father with her eyes. "You're lying."

"I wish I was," Francis said, smiling sadly. "I wouldn't lie, not about this."

"Mother?"

Mary looked up from Caterina's sleeping face to see most of the table's diners looking at her. "Yes?"

"Did you know?"

"I found out," she whispered. "And I told him to tell you all or I would have." _I can't have Catherine blaming me for the rest of her days._

Anne took a sharp intake of breath in and released it. "If you'd excuse me. I want to see where Rose has got to."

She left and John stared at his father in disbelief. "What?"

"John, I-"

"I think I'm going to join them," John muttered, leaving the room as well.

Catherine stood, downed her cup and refilled it before raising it towards her son. "God save the King!" She said, but Francis flinched at the sarcasm in the tone. His mother was just hurting. "Oh, my darling boy..."

She hurried over to him and pressed his head into her chest, hugging him tightly as he closed his eyes. He felt another pair of arms wrap around him and he recognised the smell of Spanish hibiscus - Leeza.

Then another pair of arms, this time smelling fruitier and gentle. He knew it was Claude and he could feel their tears mixing with his as he heard his young sons question their mother as to why everyone was sad.

"Oh, my darlings," Mary breathed out, wiping some crumbs off James's cheek. "We're sad because Papa might have to join God sooner than later."

"Oh," Joseph said softly.

"We don't want God to take Papa," Peter added.

James nodded. "Can't he stay with us?"

Mary let out a sob but she quickly masked it with a smile. "All we want is for him to stay with us forever and ever, but when God wants someone, we can't deny Him that."

Kenna rose from her seat, wiping her tears as she offered her hands to Xander and Ana and gestured for the little princes to follow her. "Let's see if we can play on your rocking horses, sweethearts. Come along now."

Mary kissed James's head before he hurried off to join his aunt, brothers and cousins. She swallowed hard and let the wetnurse take Caterina from her before she fixed herself up and dabbed at her eyes. She looked up and saw Francis still being held by his mother and sisters and she shared a wary smile with Bash before excusing herself.

When she rounded the hall, her legs gave over and she sobbed on the floor, feeling her heart break with every sound she made.

"Your Majesty-"

"I'm fine!" She snapped, shooing the guards away. "Just... leave me."

The guards were unsure but one whispered to the other and the other quickly hurried off before returning with Lola and Greer.

"Mary, what is it?" Greer asked softly, taking Mary's tiara from her head when the queen began to attempt to take it off in distress.

"Francis is dying," she told them, their eyes widening in disbelief.

Lola gaped. "No..."

"Yes," Mary whispered, shrugging futilely. "My husband and king, is dying."

And she didn't know how to stop it.


	73. A Regent Queen

**Replies to reviews:**

**elder441 [chapter 72]: There is always a rainbow at the end of rainfall ;) I'm getting there, having chapters pre-written posted for now but might space them out depending on how I feel. Thank you so much xx**

**Guest (1) [chapter 72]: Thank you so much xx Your words mean a lot, especially in these times. It will be a while until Rose and Anne come to terms with it, especially Anne as she now has a new role as future Queen of Sweden. At the end of the day, she still wants to be Daddy's Little Girl, but might not have that chance. Francis will have words to tell John, showing him that even if he's dead, John will always have a place just as Bash did following Henry's death. Happy days will come eventually ;) Oh and I am sorry for making you cry! I hope this one does the trick too, haha!  
**

**We are now two chapters into what I refer to as 'season 7'. Chapters 70 to 79 will focus on Francis and his health. I find it fun putting these into 'seasons' so to speak as there are so many chapters by now and each group of 9-10 chapters have their own little plot that interweaves with prior or future chapters like TV shows. So enjoy.**

* * *

Anne stood by the cliff edge, staring into the distance. Everything had changed now and she understood why her father had spoken to her about marrying sooner rather than later.

A French Queen in unchartered lands will prove beneficial to France, Scotland and whatever her parents ruled over. Marriages didn't have to contain love and she set her jaw - she would do as her father wished without question. She will make her marriage work, her husband will be willing to listen to her and should France or Scotland need it, she will have him send support and he will agree.

It had been a full day since they found out and she hadn't seen her father. In fact, shortly after breaking their fast, he'd been sent to bed on Paré's orders. He was weakening by the day and Anne swallowed a sob down.

Her eyes closed and she smiled shakily, remembering all the times she and Francis got into spats or enjoyed spending quality time with each other. No matter what, he always had time for his little girl. His eldest daughter. His Annie.

"Beautiful sight, isn't it?"

Anne nodded, not opening her eyes. "I could be here forever."

"What are you remembering right now?"

Anne sniffled, letting out a sob. "During the plague. Papa played dolls with us. And he and Mama got Rose and me to write those letters to each other. What am I going to do without him, Auntie Kenna?"

Kenna sighed. "You will get through this, Anne. Your father is a strong man, I can promise you that he won't give up without a fight. He loves you all too much to."

"I can't imagine a world without him."

"None of us can," Kenna whispered. "He's become a dear friend of mine. He's not only our king, but he is our father, our in-law, our brother, our uncle, our son... You mustn't worry, Anne. Even when he passes, you mustn't crumble. Anne, your father's death will _make_ you, not break you."

"Can queens ask for hugs?"

Kenna smiled softly and nodded. "Of course," she said, accepting Anne's arms around her frame. She ran her fingers through the girl's hair. "You will be just fine, Anne."

...

"Well?" Francis asked his mother.

Catherine sighed, tears springing to her eyes. "It's just as I thought. The poison used - it's incurable."

"Mother-"

"Francis, I am so sorry," she sobbed, cupping his cheeks. "I wish I could do more. But this strain, it's... it's beyond our time."

Francis placed his hand on hers. "I know you tried your best," he croaked out. "Don't cry."

"Why... why wouldn't I?" Catherine asked. "I should have stayed in France. I never should have gone to Italy-"

"Mother, it would still be the same situation," he said. "Just your lack of presence."

"You are my bright sun, Francis," she whispered, kissing his forehead. "My longed-for child. And now, you're being taken away from me."

"Not willingly."

She laughed softly. "No, not willingly." She shifted her hand to his hair, running her fingers through it. "When did you become so... It feels like yesterday when you were a little boy. You and Mary would tear the castle now, take no prisoners."

"Mary prefers to forget about her rebellious years," he replied lightly. "I keep those stories alive through our children." He took his mother's hand in his. "I know you and Mary have had your differences but please, be there for her. You are the only mother she knows now."

Catherine nodded a little. She couldn't deny, before the whole prophecy thing, she was impressed with the girl queen. Even as a child, Catherine knew that Mary would do great things, be great things.

"I will try."

"Thank you, Mother."

Catherine smiled. "I will let you rest."

She left the bedchamber and found Rose outside, pacing and questioning herself about going in or not. Catherine made the decision for her, gently pushing the girl inside.

"He's still your father," Catherine told her. "No matter how he is."

Rose's eyes sparkled with tears and she closed the door.

...

"How long have you known about Francis dying?" Mary asked Bash as they strolled through the gardens.

"That night you came to find him," Bash admitted.

Mary raised her brows. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"It was his secret to tell, Mary," Bash told her. "Do you think I'd betray his trust?"

"Even though I am his wife?"

"I was his brother for far longer than you have been his wife," Bash said gently.

Mary scoffed, smiling wryly. "_Half_-brother."

"Yes, well, brother nonetheless," Bash mumbled.

"Who else knew apart from those treating him?"

Bash shook his head. "I don't know."

"I know when you lie."

"It doesn't matter, Mary," Bash told her. "You can't look for anyone to blame."

"I blame myself."

Bash sighed heavily. "This has nothing-"

"This has everything to do with the prophecy, Bash. You of all people know that fact," Mary told him, eyes wide. "We changed _nothing_ at all. Or perhaps, it has always been set." She blinked her tears away. "All we have done is pushed the time back. But eventually, it caught up to us. We got too comfortable and then we were hit with this."

"He is being poisoned, Mary."

Mary almost stumbled on her footing, holding onto Bash. "Who?!"

"I haven't got a name but they're..."

Mary shook her head. "No."

"Scottish, Mary. Whoever is doing this to Francis, they're Scottish."

Mary let out a sob. "Tell me it isn't true... Could it be my... my brother?"

"I don't know who it is," Bash told her softly. "But I will find out and we will find a cure. Mary, we will save Francis. Or I'll die trying."

Mary hugged him tightly, her sobs wetting his cloak. "Francis is everything to me. If I lose him, I lose myself. Do whatever you must, question and torture who you must - just... save him."

Bash nodded. "I will."

...

"Your Majesty," the page said, bowing to Mary. "An urgent letter from Scotland came."

Mary accepted the letter and dismissed him, getting up from her seat. She was in her former bedchambers, deciding to give Francis rest after Catherine refused to leave his side. She couldn't handle the glares from her mother-in-law and she retreated, allowing the lioness to care for her cub.

Mary tore open the letter and collapsed back into her seat, reading the words repeatedly.

_'James Stewart is dead. Poisoned by unknown persons. An investigation is underway. You must protect yourself, your husband and children. The threat is unknown and you may be the next target. Your humble servant and faithful cousin, Duke of Barton, Robert Beaton VI.'_

She let out a wail.

She had just got her half-brother brother back and they killed him.

"Mary!" Kenna cried out, entering the bedchambers. She cupped Mary's wet cheeks, wincing when Mary fought against her touch. "Mary, calm down! What is it?"

Mary stopped fighting, shoving the letter into Kenna's chest. Kenna grunted a little, knowing there would be a bruise but she disregarded it and studied the letter.

"Oh, dear God," Kenna breathed out, sinking into the seat beside Mary.

"They wish to kill my father's line," Mary whispered. "Bash was right."

"About what?" Kenna asked fearfully.

Mary turned to her. "Francis's ill health is not of natural causes. He's been poisoned. By a Scot."

Kenna dropped the letter and clamped her hand over her mouth. She sat there, frozen, even when Mary laid her head down on her lap and dug her face into it, sobbing.

"I had him back," she whispered. "I had James back. He was loyal."

"The Scots are revolting..."

First France and now Scotland?

Mary didn't think she had the strength to fight anymore.

...

_'I am sending the family to France. I will remain in Holyrood and continue my investigation into the Earl of Moray's death. If it is what we fear, then the Darnleys are seeking to take the Scottish throne. Be careful, do not trust easily. Your humble servant and faithful cousin, Duke of Barton, Robert Beaton VI.'_

Mary didn't flinch when she heard the bones crack. Instead, she stood up from her seat to get closer to the action and said, "This all stops when you give me information."

The man shook his head, tears streaming down his face.

"Pull," Mary ordered softly.

His screams were loud, piercing in her ears and she brought her face closer to the former servant, sent exclusively from Scotland.

"Stop."

The pulling stopped.

"Tell me."

The man swallowed hard. "Y-Your first-cousin."

"What about him?"

"Henry Stuart, Lord Darnley."

Mary rolled her eyes. "Yes, yes. What about him?"

"He believes himself to be the superior claimant to the English and Scottish thrones," the man confessed. "Through his grandmother - Margaret Tudor."

Mary paced the cell, Bash watching her intently for the next instructions.

She couldn't believe it. She gave the man 1,000 crowns and invited him to hers and Francis's coronation. She knew it was an insult when he and the rest of his family rejected the invite and took the money, but she never thought they'd be doing this right under her nose. Brewing and simmering for _years_.

Then again, Elizabeth of England had been seen as weak for submitting and allowing the French King to bring her country into his hands to make it Catholic. Darnley was an opportunist, as male, he wouldn't make such 'stupid decisions'.

She cursed, turned to Bash and held up a finger. She had to think.

"Release him to the cells. Make sure he is fed, taken care of," Mary finally said. "He is a royal prisoner."

Bash frowned. "As you wish, Your Majesty."

He watched as she left. Maybe she had a plan to make the servant a royal prisoner. If she was showing her prisoners with courtesy, she'd get more out of them.

He turned to the man and ordered the guards to unstrap him.

...

By late May, word had got out about the King of France's demise.

Claude dabbed Francis's forehead gently, laughing when he recalled a moment of their childhood. She took the cloth and squeezed it out, dipping it in lemon water and repeating her actions.

"I'm surprised," he mumbled.

"About what?"

He blinked at her. "You doing this."

Claude let out a soft laugh. "I have changed, Francis. I am no longer a spoilt, little princess. I have duties. A son."

"And a husband."

Claude sighed heavily. "About that. I have separated from Leith. I can't be with him when you are like this. You need me more than he does. The wedding is off."

"Claude-"

"There is nothing you can say to change my mind," Claude told him, helping him take a few sips of water. "My King needs me."

"I don't want anyone to stop their lives for my sake," Francis said, taking her hand away from his head. "Go and find him. Now."

"He's preparing those men..., scouts for Scotland with Bash," Claude mumbled, returning to dabbing the sweat away. "He's busy."

"Claude-"

"Oh, look," Claude mumbled, getting up. "There's a bird that has landed on the window sill. Look how pretty it is, Francis!"

Francis watched as she opened up the windows and sat by the window, admiring the creature. It was a coping mechanism and he played along.

"What colour is it?"

"Brown, orange?" She asked unsurely. "I think this one is a robin."

Francis smiled a little, thinking about their nephew. "Robins are divine birds," he began. "A symbol of good luck and the fact that spring is impending."

Claude gasped. "He's flying away!"

Francis settled back in his bed and closed his eyes. "Renewal, passion and new beginnings."

"Or patience and wisdom," Claude said, turning to find that he had fallen asleep.

She stood and pulled the covers onto Francis properly before pressing a kiss on his forehead.

"Sleep well, Francis."

...

Robin smiled as the robin perched on his finger. He was outside, studying under a tree and he turned to see his parents in a heated discussion. They had done that a lot lately but he didn't worry, they always made up someway or another.

"Where's your home, little bird?" He asked the robin.

The robin danced on his finger and Robin laughed. He could feel Hope and Willow scuffling about on his side and he gently scolded them, the dog growling at the fox who simpered away guiltily.

"Hope, to me," Robin called out and the fox nestled herself on his other side.

He could hear his parents clearly now. They had unknowingly got closer to him, Robin seeing his father roll his eyes for the umpteenth time.

"Bash, you don't need to go to Scotland," Kenna said. "If they are killing a French king, they could just as easily kill his French brother. It doesn't matter if their wives are Scottish or not!"

"Francis doesn't trust anyone else and Leith can't go. It has to be me," Bash replied. "We are not going there to fight. It is only a scouting mission."

Kenna stared at him angrily. "You promised me."

"This is for Francis, Kenna," Bash cried out. "You would do the same for Mary. Actually, you did. When you went into my father's bedchambers to take the edict."

"Yes, in the castle and not an entirely another country!" She crossed her arms. "The christenings for the children is soon."

"I'll return before then."

Kenna stared at him dubiously. "How can you ensure that? Do you even know where you are going?"

"Yes. Mary has given me clear instructions and when I met your father the first time, he showed me around," Bash replied. "I am certain that I have not forgotten all of that."

"Bash, please."

"Kenna, if I can save my brother then I will do anything to make that happen," Bash said, bringing her hands in his. "I killed someone for him."

Robin looked up in surprise.

"Catherine had a secret daughter. Apparently, during their time in Italy, she abducted Charles and Little Henri," Bash told her. "Her being alive meant that Francis could get worse. They were linked - as we are. I can't lose Francis, Kenna."

Kenna dug her face into his chest. "I know," she mumbled against him. "Francis doesn't deserve such a loyal brother as you."

"I love you, Kenna."

"I love you too," she mumbled. "Just be careful."

He cupped her cheeks. "I know you're worried I'll do another disappearing act. But my will to be with you and our children will guide me home."

Kenna smiled wryly and nodded, kissing him softly. "I have to find Mary. You better say 'goodbye' to the children. One's watching us as if we've grown two heads."

Robin whistled and looked down at his book when he felt his parents' gazes on him. "See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil."

"Come with us, Robin," Kenna said, waving him over. "I'll see if there are any pomegranate tarts to eat."

"Are you...?" Bash asked.

Kenna burst out laughing. "No! But your face!"

"Dear God..."

...

Mary snuggled into Francis's side, smiling softly when she felt his lips on her head. She couldn't be apart from him for too long. She couldn't sleep without him by her side but she will return to her empty bed later on. Ambroise did not want anyone disturbing his treatment.

"What detox elixirs have Paré got you on?" She asked her husband.

"I've lost count of them," Francis mumbled. "There are too many to remember."

Mary nodded and laid her head back down on his chest. "At least the fever has broken. You were touch and go for a while there."

"You shouldn't be so close. Caterina needs you well," Francis told her softly.

"I've put her in the care of the nanny and wetnurse," Mary replied, closing her eyes. "She's fine."

"We can't have two sick monarchs," Francis said, pressing a kiss on her forehead. "Defeats the purpose of a strong front."

Mary smiled wryly. "Well, you better keep quiet because nothing will change my mind."

"So, what has Bash found out?"

"You don't need to worry about that-"

"I know that James is dead," Francis cut her off. "Kenna told me. She is the only one giving me that courtesy lately."

Mary gave him a look. "You are supposed to be focusing on yourself. Leave the rest to me. You will make yourself worse."

"I trust you to have everything at hand," Francis began. "But I would like to be kept informed. It is me who is suffering greatly."

"Fine then," she said, pressing a kiss on his lips. "I will let you in on everything we find out."

"A kiss for intel?"

Mary raised an eyebrow. "Depends on how good the kiss is."

Francis grinned and kissed her deeply before whispering against her lips, "Was that good?"

"Good enough," Mary breathed out, opening her eyes. "Lord Darnley."

"Your cousin?"

"Yes."

"He's poisoning me?"

"Uh-uh," she said. "A kiss first."

He pressed his lips against hers again. "Answer my question."

Mary nodded, swallowing hard. "He wants to claim my throne and the English one as a male descendant and claimant."

"What else?"

Mary kissed him this time. "Darnley killed my half-brother."

"Mary, I'm so sorry," Francis breathed out. "I thought it was of natural causes. So Darnley is killing your father's line off or attempting to?"

Mary nodded, sniffling. "My father had bastard sons scattered across Scotland. I have reports of their deaths. James was the most important one, as regent in Scotland. Now, they're going for me through you. If you die, I am weakened once again even if I have your sons." Her fingers worked on making circles on his chest as her gaze lowered to that. "I don't know what to do."

"Mary, I have no doubt that you will find a way," Francis told her. "Even when I die-"

"You mean _if_."

"_If_," Francis started uncertainly. "You will still do great things. We've had a life together. I don't regret any second of it. I will cherish those moments, Mary."

"I don't want the last time I see you, to be on my deathbed," she breathed out. "When I'm old and grey, surrounded by our grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Fight for us, Francis."

Francis kissed her softly. "I will."

...

"Father?"

Francis opened his eyes and smile. "Come inside, John."

John stepped in and closed the door behind him. He walked over to the end of the bed and picked on a strand of loose thread on the covers.

"How do you feel?"

"As expected."

John pulled a face. "If you die, what happens to me?"

"What do you mean?" Francis asked him, confused.

John sighed, pulling the desk chair and bringing it over to Francis's bedside. He sat down and rested his chin on his fists. "You are the reason I am here. If you die, where does that put me? Or even my mother?"

"John, you have a barony nearby should you and your mother wish to leave," Francis began. "But here is your home. Mary will not ever take it away from you, she's the main reason you're both here. As her lady-in-waiting and her godson."

John smiled a little. "So, we'll still be protected?"

"Yes," Francis told him. "You do not have to worry."

"Is there anything I can do?"

Francis nodded, reaching out to take John's hand. "Be the best person you can. Break the glass ceiling, build a life worthy of living."

"How? I'm a bastard."

Francis laughed, brushing John's hair away from his eyes. "Have you met my half-brother?"

"You owe me."

"I do?" Francis asked, confused.

John smiled, nodding and hugging his father. "A hunting trip. That's what kings do with their bastard sons."

"Heh," Francis replied softly. "When I feel better, I will have the best hounds to come with us."

"Can Anne and Rose join us too?"

Traditionally, it was between men and their sons but Francis nodded and smiled. "They can come too. We will make a trip out of it. Best weather, best horses, best bows and arrows... Only happiness, John Philip. Promise me."

John shakily nodded. "I promise."

"I... promised your little half-brothers a story. I may need to postpone it unless...?"

John stood and picked his seat up. "I will read them to bed."

"Thank you," Francis replied. "No matter what, you are still my son."

John returned the seat and left, closing the doors behind him. He walked away, leaving the guards curious about the conversation held inside. He headed downstairs and found Anne alone in the throne room, sitting cross-legged in the middle.

"Do you think it's scary to be king?" She whispered but he could hear her loud and clear.

"I wouldn't know," was his reply. "I'm only a bastard."

Anne furrowed her brows. "I used to dream of being queen. Wore the best dresses, had the best makeup, the best shoes, the best tiaras... But now Papa's... nothing matters." She turned to him with watery eyes. "Who did we wrong to deserve this?"

"I don't know, Anne," John told her. "If I did, I'd kill them myself."

"I'd join you," Anne replied. "I am going to be queen. Queen of Sweden. All alone in a country that I don't understand. A language that I don't understand. Faces that I don't recognise. With the cold reminder that my father would be dead."

"I'd join you," John said this time. "I will take on a job as a guard. So you have one familiar face."

Anne turned to smile at him a little. "You would do that for _me_?"

"Of course. You're my sister. I will look after you, no matter what," John replied.

Anne nodded and turned back to the thrones. "I will be sitting on one, one day." She stood and walked up the steps.

"Get used to it then."

Anne took a deep breath in and released it before sitting on her mother's throne. "God save the Queen."

Mary who had been walking passed stopped in her tracks and turned to study her eldest child. She gasped at how queenly she looked, yet so young and innocent and tears sprung to her eyes as she stepped inside, gaining the children's attention.

Mary curtseyed. "Your Majesty."

Anne laughed, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Your Majesty," she responded in kind, getting up to curtsey before they giggled.

Anne hurried down the steps and ran into her mother's arms, inhaling Mary's scent as Mary closed her eyes and ran her fingers through the girl's hair.

"Oh, Mama."

"My Annie," Mary whispered. "My sweet, sweet Annie."

John left them to their privacy, finally releasing the sobs that had been brewing in his chest.

"John?" Robin called him before gasping and hugging him tightly. "Oh, John..."


	74. A Mortified Queen

**Replies to reviews:**

**elder 441 [chapter 73]: He really is! I'm loving the character he's turning out to be.**

**Guest (1) [chapter 73]: Yeah, I feel for them too - as the ones who understand most out of the children, it hits them harder as they feel helpless. She does and her mother-in-law doesn't help things sadly. The writer's block is getting there slowly. I've explained in my The Arrangement story chapter 2 why it came on. The chapters are pre-written and are spaced out for now or if I continue to write chapters, they'll return frequently. The chapters will vary in size and may turn out shorter so I can break them up into chunks to keep uploading regularly until otherwise. Thanks very much! **

****Maybe to help me get back to writing, I should go back to my previous chapters and stories I have up and retouch the chapters. I don't know, I see the errors and mark it down on my notes but never get around to it. I will try and the chapters will still keep coming for you amazing people. Stay safe, love you all. Oh and I posted the previous chapter less than 24hrs on April 7th, not 6th which is the one before that so go back and check it if you haven't. It should be chapter 73 :) It's being a little glitchy.****

* * *

"She's acting like a complete-"

"What?" Anne snapped, turning to her handmaidens who cowered in the corner, busying themselves with her dresses. "Go on, tell me. What am I acting like?"

The handmaidens took her dirty linens and quickly curtseyed before leaving her bedchambers. Anne sighed heavily, throwing her brush onto her vanity before standing and heading to her bed to lay down.

Tears sprung to her eyes and she felt someone hold her.

"The handmaidens couldn't wait to get out of here," Rose said softly. "Anne, you mustn't act so-"

"Urgh-"

"Abrasive."

"Rose, I could care less, honestly," the elder princess replied, sitting up and turning to her sister. "You don't understand and I truly hope things will be easier for _you_ at least."

Rose frowned. "However do you mean?"

"You will be the next Queen of Scotland just as I will be the Queen of Sweden as of next year," Anne told her. "Did Father and Mother not tell you about the change in the line of succession?"

Rose gaped, shaking her head. "I didn't know," she breathed out. "I can't be a queen!"

"Hush," Anne said softly. "You don't have to worry about that until Mama's old and grey."

Rose settled down and nodded shakily. "But the idea-"

"Is still terrifying?" Anne finished for her. "I know. John Philip will be one of my guards in my household when I go to Sweden next year. I hope I will be allowed to come home often. I will miss you all."

She started to cry and Rose hugged her tightly, stroking her sister's hair gently.

"Oh, Anne," she whispered. "I know it's scary but you can always write. I will be here to reply."

"And you will look after Little Cat?"

"Caterina and I will get on like a house on fire," Rose promised her. "We already do. She smiles a lot although that may just be-"

"Trapped wind."

They giggled, remembering their little inside joke and Rose hugged Anne tighter.

"You'll be just fine, Annie. I swear it."

Anne sighed against her sister's chest. "I hope so."

...

Mary yawned. She had woken up early, plagued by a nightmare and hurrying to her husband's bedside to make sure her dream wasn't true. To her relief, it wasn't and she settled herself in hers and her husband's bed, surprising the King when he woke up later in the morning.

Now, she ate breakfast with the family. Everyone was still worried and concerned but as Francis showed some signs of improvement, they realised they didn't need to hover over the King every waking second of the day and had time to themselves.

"How are your studies, girls?" Mary asked, briefly glancing at her daughters as she selected some fruits and some meats.

"Very well," Rose mumbled. "Perhaps you and Father can get me a Scottish Gaelic tutor?"

Mary was surprised and she smiled. "Of course," she replied. "In fact, my cousin Douglas is coming imminently with most of the Beatons. Either one of them can spend time and tutor you. I'd choose Douglas though, he has more patience."

Kenna chuckled. "I remember when we were girls. Robert kept losing his patience with us."

Mary laughed, nodding as she held her cup near her mouth. "He threatened to have us spanked a few times. As if he could spank me, a queen."

The women laughed and Rose smiled softly.

"Thank you, Mother," she said.

"You are most welcome, sweetling," Mary replied lovingly. "And Anne? Would you want a Swedish tutor?"

Anne looked up from her plate. "Yes, Mother," she mumbled, resting her head on her hand.

"Marie Anne, that is no such way a queen acts," Catherine snapped, making the girl sit up straighter.

"Catherine, it's fine," Mary said, a frown playing on her lips. "Anne, you may sit however you wish-"

"If we do not break bad behaviours now, perhaps she will be like her mother and have her own husband killed for her actions," Catherine hissed.

Mary's eyes widened. She placed her drink down and turned to Catherine once again, her face red as if she had been slapped instead of verbally abused. She swallowed hard and dismissed everyone but Catherine from the table.

"Catherine, you need to remember that the only Queen of France in this castle is _me_," Mary said firmly. "You are only Dowager Queen, or Queen Mother if we want to be nice. Not that it matters as you are only here on Francis's favour." She swallowed hard. "I know that things have been difficult of late but once, we agreed to put aside our differences for Francis's sake-"

"You mean Francis who is dying?" Catherine roared. "My golden child, my sweet cherub, my _son_. He may be your husband but he is _my_ blood!"

"His blood runs in our children's veins!" Mary retorted. "I will always be the first woman in his life, the woman who gave him many children, a kingdom and more. You will only ever be the woman who birthed him."

Catherine laughed bitterly. "At least that is better than being the woman who _killed_ him."

The older woman rose from her seat and left, swinging her dress as she turned out the doors.

Mary shook and she covered her lips, tears springing to her eyes. "I'm fine," she croaked out to Kenna.

Kenna shook her head. "Mary..."

"Just go, Kenna," Mary said quietly. "Everyone leaves me anyway."

Kenna blinked back tears. "You know I will _never_ leave my queen willingly. Let me be there for you if that wretched Italian bitch won't. We're family."

"Well, 'family' doesn't really mean much, does it?" Mary asked, scoffing. "I mean, my own cousin murdered my half-brother and now, he's killing my husband."

"Mary-"

"'Family' at the end of the day means nothing. At least blood family," she said. "How could I make a better life with Francis than my mother ever could for me?"

Kenna shrugged helplessly, coming to sit back down. "Francis is your happiness and I know what it will do to you when he dies. That's why we will all do our very best to make sure he lives. If not for your sake, but for your children's and the countries you both rule. We have all been through so much, we deserve a damn break."

Mary let out a sob. "I'm tired of fighting everyone and everything. I just want peace, now and forevermore but... There's always something or someone around the corner to send everything we've worked for tumbling back down."

"Then," Kenna began, taking Mary's hands. "We will do this _together_."

...

Francis placed down his sketching book and pencil, looking up to face Robin. "You came."

"I wasn't going to," Robin admitted. "Grandmama Catherine and Aunt Mary got into an argument."

Francis sighed heavily, gesturing for the boy to take a seat. He knew his mother was hurting but picking fights with his wife was not going to solve any matters or better yet, make him better.

"Can you try and identify the one who did this to me through your powers?" Francis asked quietly.

Robin frowned. "I thought we had figured it out to be Lord Darnley. Aunt Mary's and my mother's distant cousin?"

"I need to be sure," Francis said. "I need confirmation, _evidence_."

"Oh, I see," Robin said, realisation dawning in his eyes. "Written evidence, secret coded messages between poisoner and executioner..."

"Yes, exactly," Francis said, smiling a little. Robin was just as quick-thinking and smart as his father. "I know I can count on you."

Robin nodded. "Anything, Uncle," he said eagerly.

"Right," Francis muttered, about to leave the bed but he thought better of it. In fact, he remembered something else. "If I die, don't..."

"Bring you back?" Robin asked carefully.

"I don't know who will die in my place," Francis explained. "I do not wish to tempt fate."

Robin sighed heavily. "I guess that is reasonable. But you will not die in the first place, Uncle."

He made himself comfortable by Francis's covered feet and held out a hand. He will try and find something, anything.

Francis put his hand in Robin's hand and gripped it as Robin's hold tightened and the boy closed his eyes. Francis studied him intently, watching as Robin pulled faces and sort-of looked constipated? He frowned.

Robin sighed and opened his eyes. "Nothing. It doesn't work like that. I have to be asleep for this."

Francis clicked his fingers and retrieved a vial. "Sleeping oil. One drop under the tongue."

The King pipetted some and dropped it into Robin's opened mouth, under his tongue. The boy soon fell asleep and Francis returned the vial back to its 'usual' spot in his drawers by the bed. He then held Robin's hand and watched on expectantly.

...

_"...This is why we never trust women-"_

_"Henry, this is treason!"_

_"The bitch should have married me," Darnley hissed. "Should have kept the bloodline strong. We would have taken the English throne even before that Lutheran bitch took it from her half-sister's cold hands. But she married the French and the French took our beloved country away from us. Our children sing French nursery tales-"_

_David Rizzo, Mary's private secretary who remained in Scotland slammed his hands on the desk. "You should speak no such words of our Queen and King."_

_"I thought you were my friend."_

_"I was your friend before you become a drunkard! Vain, narcissist of a man. Your son had to be taken away from you. What thirteen-year-old boy wants to see his father make a fool of himself?!" Rizzo replied._

_Darnley scoffed. "I couldn't care less about what that boy thinks. His new mother will be the Queen once the King of France is dead."_

_"You will have to find him first," Rizzo warned Darnley. "Now, who did you have poison the King of France?"_

_Darnley beamed, a mad look laced in his eyes. "Why, myself, of course! I disguised myself as a serving boy. He was none the wiser... If you saw him, laughing with his bastard son and his bastard brother's son... The French disgust me."_

_"Their mothers are Scottish," Rizzo argued weakly. _

_"Scottish or not, they have French blood in them and they needed to be wiped out too!"_

_Rizzo gasped, eyes wide. The man had poisoned the boys too? "How can you do such a thing, Darnley? What have those boys ever done to you? What has King Francis, our true king done to you?! What has Queen Mary done to you?!" He was a fireball of questions, tears threatening to erupt at the chance of a child dying. He felt sick._

_"Scotland has been in shambles since that woman switched alliances! She's half-French, now it had dominated her mind. Everything she did was for her damned husband's sake! She has to be taught a lesson. Reminded that staying within the bloodline, the true bloodline is the way to go. I should have been king. As the only male legitimate heir and blood relation to the English throne, it should be me sitting in those thrones!" Darnley roared. "If you won't help me with the next steps of my plan, I will call upon my dear friend John Knox."_

_"You leave that zealot out of this!"_

_Darnley grinned. "Well, you don't have to worry about that."_

_"What-"_

_Rizzo gasped as Darnley stabbed him. He glanced down and the blade inside him and it was quickly pulled out before shoved into his chest again._

_Fifty-six times._

_The smell of the blood was sickening._

...

"Aunt Mary's secretary is dead," Robin gasped out, waking up.

Francis frowned. "David Rizzo?"

"Yes. Darnley killed him. H-He stabbed him, fifty-six times," Robin quickly got out. "He's mad. The man's mad, he wants to.."

"Deep breaths," Francis said, cupping Robin's cheeks. "Now tell me everything you saw and heard."

Robin met his eyes. "He pretended to be your ward and he was the one poisoning you."

"Damn it."

"Now, he's turning to the Protestant Reformists leader, John Knox, to help him with his next plans."

Francis's eyes widened. "You need to tell Mary right away! Do not stop, do not do anything else other than delivering everything you know to her _now_."

Robin nodded quickly and leapt off the bed, running out of the bedchambers where the guards helped closed the doors behind him. He was a sight, running through hallways, searching in rooms and chambers and coming up unsuccessful.

Robin finally found her, watching as James, Joseph and Peter were being taught their horseriding lessons. He quickly bowed and pulled her away from earshot, apologising profusely for his behaviour.

"Your private secretary in Scotland has been murdered," he whispered breathlessly.

Mary gasped. "Darnley?"

"Yes. He will go to John-John Knox and he'll... he'll..." Robin trailed off, his vision suddenly becoming blurry and he fell, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

"Robin!" Mary cried out, catching him and looking around mortified at the sight happening before her. "Guards! Guards, come quick!" She looked down and gasped when she saw blood dripping down his nose. "Quickly!"

The horseriding tutor halted in his work and sounded the alarm, but not before carefully helping each prince down to head to their governess.

Mary's attention returned to Robin. "You're going to be fine, Robin," she whispered, stroking his hair. "You're going to be fine. I've got you."


	75. A Cunning Queen

**One of you gave me a good idea I already had but had put it in a later chapter. I just reworked this one to add it in here instead and the other chapter to remove that part. If you didn't know already, lost some people close to me from the coronavirus so my writer's block had unknowingly stemmed from that in the sense that I knew something was wrong and had it confirmed sadly afterwards. I truly hope you are all safe with your friends and families and do not suffer any heartbreaking losses. I love you all, stay safe - Bex.**

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**Guest (1) [chapter 74]: Glad you are, haha!**

****Guest (2) [chapter 74]: It's only getting more chilling from here but Robin's fine! Moments between Francis and his girls are down below :)****

* * *

"There is little trace of poison. Mild effects, but this was not brought on by poison. His make is different than what one could state as normal. Perhaps even like me, immune," Nostradamus confirmed. "This was due to his unnatural use of his powers."

"What does that mean?" Kenna asked, wiping her tears as Bash placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Nostradamus sighed heavily. "He forced his powers to reveal themselves, my lady."

"Why?" Kenna breathed out, turning to look up at her husband in confusion. "What reason does he have-"

"It was me."

"Francis, you shouldn't be out of bed!" Mary chastised him, heading to the door to help him to a seat. "What do you mean it was you?"

Francis stared at the unconscious boy. "I had him try and find the evidence we could use to condemn Darnley for treason. I gave him some of my sleeping oil, I believed it to be harmless-"

"It could have been bad for children his age," Nostradamus said gently. "But that would not have had an effect like this unless he forced his powers. As I said before, most remedies and elixirs work differently on the boy."

"Don't blame yourself," Bash said to his brother quietly. "I know my son, he'd do anything to help. Even if it meant hurting himself."

"I'm sure he didn't know-"

"Have you found anything to prevent his powers?" Kenna asked, sharing a nod with her husband.

Nostradamus winced. "I have not dedicated time to that after..." _Francis's poisoning_, they all thought. "I will continue-"

"Don't," Kenna whispered. "I will find a way to prevent them, myself. Just focus on Francis."

"Come back to bed, Francis," Mary told him softly. "His parents are with him now."

Francis gave his brother an apologetic look and Bash shook his head. "Bash, I'm sorry."

Bash gave him a wry smile and a shrug. "You have nothing to be sorry for. I would have done the same."

Francis nodded sadly and allowed Mary to help him up and take him back to their bedchambers. She tucked him in the bed and laid beside him, pressing a long kiss on his lips. She pulled away and saw that he was crying.

"I told him to tell you with such haste and he-"

"Shh-"

"Mary, what if I've caused his death?"

Mary shook her head. "Nostradamus told us that he will be just fine. A headache would mostly plague him and he'll need some rest."

"The message for you, it was important," Francis said. "You need to know _everything_ his vision told us."

"Only when he's better."

"We don't have time-"

"Francis, we do," Mary assured him.

Francis furrowed his brows. "Mary?"

"Bash is not only preparing scouts for Scotland, Francis," she admitted quietly. "He's preparing _soldiers_." She sighed. "We thought you'd be less worried if we kept that from you."

"Kenna will kill me if anything happened to Bash. I'll hate it myself," Francis breathed out. "Stop the men. Don't send anyone-"

"Francis, Darnley has killed my secretary Rizzo," she told him gently. "He is gaining favour with the Scottish Protestant Reformists. I've sent a letter to Elizabeth, even _she's_ against him after what he said of her in the past."

"But, Mary-"

"We need to subdue the Darnleys soon," Mary told him. "We must strike before he gets more support."

Francis sighed heavily and nodded. "He's going to hate me for this."

"Who will?" His wife asked.

"Bash. I'm going to sign an order for him to be locked up-"

"Francis!" Mary cried out. "You cannot do to him what you did to me. Every time we want to do something in favour of us, you allow us to. Why will you want to stop him from-"

"If I don't, this poison won't kill me but his wife will," Francis said lightly. "Lock him up, don't release him until they've gone at least two days. Also, I want his head guard, Cassius to lead. He did well in the Azores whilst Bash was wounded. We trust him."

"Francis..." Mary said warningly.

Francis looked at her, his eyes doing that thing she hated but loved all the same. "Please? Give a dying man his wish?"

Mary scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Damn you, Francis Valois," she muttered before handing him the order and a pen to sign it.

...

Rose entered the bedchambers when she was granted access and she presented a tray of fruit tea on her father's lap. "You are looking much better, Father."

"I feel better, Rose," Francis replied, even though it may not have been the case. "What have we got here?"

"Raspberry tea," she said, pouring the red liquid into two teacups. "I will add some honey to yours. I know how much of a sweet tooth you have."

Francis chuckled softly, brushing her hair behind her ear as she spooned some honey into the hot liquid on his side. He studied her as she kept her gaze down as if she was terrified to look at him and he'd disappear.

"Look at me, Rose."

Rose shook her head, bringing her cup to her lips and she took a long sip. "This tastes wonderful, doesn't it?"

"I haven't even taken a sip," Francis said before he took one. "Why, yes, it tastes wonderful."

A hint of a smile graced Rose's lips before it disappeared. "What is it like?"

"What?"

"Dying."

Francis sighed heavily, leaning back on his pillows. "It's actually quite calming. Once you come to terms with it, of course. It makes you value things and people a lot more. Things you took for granted, like a warm bed with a warm cup of milk before sleeping... Things like that seem sweeter, bittersweet actually. As it could be the last thing you do or the last time you do that thing and you'd die, peacefully knowing that you had no grudges or regrets."

"Father-"

"When death comes, look it in the eye," Francis began, lifting her chin so their eyes could meet. Blue on blue. "And never show it _fear_."

Rose nodded. "Yes, Father."

"You have always been a smart girl, Rose," Francis told her proudly. "Quiet, reserved, friendly, charitable... You will make for a good queen one day and you should never be afraid. You are and will always be loved... Our future Queen Mary II of Scots."

Rose smiled sadly, wiping her falling tears from her cheeks. "Thank you, Father."

"Now we ought to enjoy this tea," Francis said, letting go of her chin and putting another spoonful of honey in his tea. "It tastes sweeter when you're here."

Rose let out a breathy laugh, playfully rolling her eyes as they continue to drink their teas in silence.

"Robin's awake, by the way," she stated casually. "Complained of a headache but he will come and see you after."

"I'm glad to hear it," Francis replied, relieved. "When I am feeling more myself, we are going hunting. You and Anne will join us, give your future husbands something to be impressed about."

"We will be forces to be reckoned with," Rose said, smiling.

"As you should be," Francis replied, kissing her forehead. "As you should be..."

...

"I have a plan," Mary began, pacing the room. "A cunning plan so to speak."

Bash eyed her every move intently. "Care to let me in?"

"James Stuart, Darnley's son," Mary stated.

"What about him?"

Mary stopped and crossed her arms, turning to face Bash. "I want you to find him. Robin told me that he'd been separated from Darnley and Darnley doesn't care about him. He must be terrified of his father, what he's become so I want you to find him and bring him to France. With him here, Francis and I can have him marry Rose by proxy. As for Darnley and Knox, we will deal with them separately and make sure that Darnley cannot get to his son and poison the boy's mind against his true king and queen."

"Darnley believes he is the true king of Scotland and England," Bash replied. "He would want to secure his line - find his son."

"So, we get there first."

Bash nodded and slowly stood. "I will diverge from the scouting mission and find him."What will you tell Francis when he asks of me?"

Mary sighed, rubbing the side of her head. "That you chose to stay at Avon out of displeasure of not going to Scotland."

"Francis is not stupid," Bash told her. "He will want evidence that I am where he wants me to be."

"It's not even Francis's choice," Mary replied warily. "It's Kenna's."

"Kenna who accepted this regardless?" Bash asked. "He does not need to worry about my wife's wrath. Tell him I had her permission, not that I need it."

"No man needs permission," Mary said, smirking. "But you must have it."

Bash scowled and headed to the door. "Go to Scotland, find Darnley's son, bring him to France and marry the boy off to a future queen. Seems like a decent plan enough. Totally won't fail."

Mary laughed softly. "I know, it's mad but we must do what we did to Philip."

"But this time, you're giving Darnley the ammunition he needs," Bash replied carefully. "Now, if he becomes king, he has a French princess who will be a future queen and his new daughter-in-law, gaining more favour."

"That's why he won't marry _Rose_ just yet. And there are such things as edicts. Remember mine?" Mary told him, making him wince. "We will talk more about it when the plan is concrete and James Stuart is in my protection. Now, go and I will talk to Francis about this marriage between Elisabeth and the Emperor." Before he could go, she added, "Thanks. For everything."

Bash turned to her and nodded. "Just look after my wife and children whilst I'm gone."

"I promise," she whispered, giving him a smile before he left.

...

"...Perhaps tomorrow, I will be able to do the voices better," Francis said, closing the book as he pressed kisses on each of his young sons' heads.

"Come along, boys," Anne said, entering the bedchambers. "It's time for dinner."

The boys groaned and each pressed a kiss onto their father's cheeks before scurrying off the bed and running out to their governess. Anne chuckled, turning away from the scene when the doors closed and she turned to her father.

"Are you feeling alright?" She asked, walking up to the bed with her hands clasped on her front.

Francis nodded, smiling wryly. "I forgot how eager to read your brothers were. They are doing well, reading so expertly at their ages."

"You and Mother did provide only the best of educations for us," Anne replied easily. "I better go-"

"Wait," Francis whispered, reaching a hand towards her. "Come."

Anne paused before she slowly walked up to him and accepted his hold. "Yes?" She whispered back inquisitively.

"I have a gift for you."

Anne frowned. "A gift?"

Francis groaned a little when he shifted to retrieve his sketchbook. He then opened it up and tore a page from it, handing it to her. "For your birthday."

Anne gasped, staring down at the paper clutched tightly in her hands. It was drawn of her, her holding a flower in her hands against her chest. The fleur-de-lis. Upon her head was a crown and a soft smile played on her lips as she looked almost serene, yet forlorn. Written in her father's neat handwriting underneath the sketch was her full name - Marie Anne Madeleine of Valois.

"Never forget who you are and where you come from, Anne," Francis said softly. "You are my daughter and even when you are someone else's wife, you will _always_ be _my_ daughter. My pride and joy, mine and your mother's beginning of our greatest love story - our love for _you _and your siblings. Because of you, France was strong."

Anne's eyes watered but she composed herself and didn't let a tear fall as she met her father's eyes. "I will cherish it to my dying breath, Your Majesty." She curtseyed low and rose again, giving her father a warm smile.

"A queen in waiting," Francis breathed out in wonder before closing his eyes. "I'm quite tired now, sweetheart. I will see you soon."

Anne nodded and left the bedchambers, leaning her back against the door she went through. Ignoring the guards' sympathetic glances, she stared down at the drawing of herself and hugged it to her chest.

After three minutes of gathering enough strength to continue, she walked on and headed to her bedchambers to lock the drawing away and head down for dinner.

...

Leeza undid the plait she'd done on Francis's hair, brushing her fingers against his stubble as he slept. He looked so peaceful, like a child once again if not for the sign of his manliness - his facial hair. Leeza laughed softly, recalling the first time he'd grown some, eager to show off how much of a man he'd become - the future King of France he'd been then. The Dauphin who was loved.

_"One day you will be king, Francis. Being a man is more than the amount of hair you grow on your body but what you hold inside of you."_

Leeza sniffled, recalling their half-brother's words. He'd never wanted the crown anyway, he was only a bastard and could do whatever he wanted. If he was killed, it would hurt their father greatly but if Francis was killed, that was a different story. As children, they quickly knew the difference between a prince and a bastard.

But how come it was the bastards who knew how to value life, friends, family and much more than princes and princesses? All Leeza could remember before her teenage marriage to King Philip was all the lessons Bash bestowed upon them.

He didn't have to give it to them, he had no duty to them. He could have been jealous and spiteful but he took the blame whenever they broke things or did things not favourable and he looked after them more than their parents ever could.

Because of the likes of Bash and Mary, Francis had grown to be a great king, loyal, strong, just and clever. Leeza was so proud of him, she knew she could seek asylum with Francis should life in Spain become life-threatening. And she did as it did.

Francis mumbled something incoherently and she hushed him, brushing his hair back before he settled back into a deep sleep. His forehead grew with sweat and she sighed, knowing what it meant.

She fetched for Ambroise.

"Francis," she said softly, even though she didn't want to wake him up. "You have to fight. Whatever is going on that you and your wife refuse to tell us, you must fight for that. Fight to remain with your children. Fight to remain... Don't leave us. We still have a lot of reminiscing to do over our childhood together."

She pressed a long kiss on his head and looked up when Paré entered.

He bowed and went over to Francis's desk to bring out his equipment, leaving Leeza a few more minutes with her brother.

_"I knew we'd be safe the minute you become king."_

_"Welcome home, Leeza. You'll always have a home with us."_

And it really did feel like home.

Until now.

"Keep fighting, Francis. It will all be worth it in the end."


	76. An Honest Husband of the Queen

**I had this chapter written up and then hated it then changed it many times. I've had a stressful week but we're getting there. **

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**elder441 [chapter 75]: The healers are working steadfastly on that ;)**

**Guest (1) [chapter 75]: Thanks for loving it! And thank you so much, I hope so too, it's getting too real and frightening but we'll get through it together.**

****FeliLuna13 [chapter 75]: Thank you so much for your kind words x I'm glad to! It helps me as well as you all :) Here are more moments to bring you in the feels.****

* * *

"Smell that? _Tha_t is the smell of fresh air," Francis said, getting off his horse.

Anne gagged. "No, that is the smell of animal excrement and Lord knows what else!"

"You're such a princess," Robin told her as he walked past with logs. "Help me with the fire."

"What will I do?" Rose asked as Anne stepped over whatever she thought was on the ground to follow after Robin.

Francis grinned. "You and John will hunt with me."

"I've never hunted before!" Rose gasped out, going to get her archery set from the horse. "Is there a lot of blood?"

"_A lot_," John said, making her eyes widen. "Only when you gut it though."

"I would like to try!" Rose said, retrieving a dagger from her pocket. "Mother gave it to me. Said it was from Uncle James."

"Where's mine?" Anne asked, frowning as she looked over. "Why do _you_ get all the good things?"

Rose scoffed. "You're such a princess," she told her older sister. "Look at you - wearing a _dress_ hunting!"

"I couldn't wear breeches could I?" Anne retorted. "There are eyes and ears everywhere and a future queen must always look presentable."

Rose coughed and the next thing she knew, Anne was on her bottom, squelched in horse faeces. Rose grinned, sending Robin a quick wink as she smirked.

"You were saying, Anne?"

Anne scowled, gagging as she gripped onto a ball of faeces and lifted it. "I would love it if you dared me."

"Anne?" Francis called out, coming over to help her out but she threw the faeces straight into Rose's chest.

"Anne!"

"Girls!" Francis cried out.

"She started it!" They both cried out.

Francis sighed heavily, shaking his head as he yanked Anne up, letting her wipe her bottom off. "You have a spare dress packed in the trunk - go and get dressed in the carriage," he told her, turning to Rose. "As for you..."

Rose smiled sweetly. "Yes, Father?"

"Clean up in the lake," Francis said with a heavy sigh. "And no more of these pointless spats."

Rose shrugged indifferently and giggled when Anne stormed past her, sending her a glare. "I think some got on your hair!"

"Oh!" Anne shrieked, lifting her hand to the back of her strawberry blonde locks. "Rose!"

...

"There you all are," Bash said, getting down from his horse. "I didn't know you decided on somewhere _further_ than what we agreed on."

Francis smiled meekly. "It was closer to the waterfall," he explained. "The children wanted to swim."

"And how are they?" Bash asked, looking around. "Anne's not here."

"She decided that sleeping in the carriage would be better for her," Rose told her uncle. "Fewer creatures of the Earth."

"Ah," Bash replied with a click of his tongue. "What are we doing?"

Robin shifted across the log, allowing his father to take a seat in front of the fire he'd made with Anne. "Cards, Father," he said. "Shall I reshuffle?"

"Go ahead," Francis said, handing his cards over as the others did the same to Robin could split it evenly. "Your father and I have never lost a game. Sometimes we'd throw it-"

"In favour of the women we played with - your mothers and aunts," Bash quickly said. "Come on, what game are we playing?"

"I don't think we've taught them how to play glic," Francis replied. "Our father used to play it with us when we were boys. Albeit, we never used money but the best-picked berries of the season."

Bash shared a smile with France. "I remember. I also remember winning and you crying about it."

"I never cried!"

"You did," Robin said under his breath, receiving a light, teasing nudge from Bash.

"I may have cried _twice_ but that's because the berries were so delicious to pass up on!" Francis defended himself. "You know what? Let's play another-"

"Nope, we're playing glic," Rose cut him off. "Now, how do we play?"

Surprisingly, the newly introduced to the game had won with a four of a kind set. Rose collected her berries happily and then begrudgingly shared them out.

...

"...Ease your breathing," Francis coached Anne. "When you are ready, release the arrow."

Anne took a deep breath in, waited a few seconds and released it, releasing the arrow as she did so. She smiled widely when it struck the hare down and she turned to her father.

"Did I do well?"

"More than well," Francis said proudly, kissing her forehead. "Why don't you collect it and I will teach you how to skin and gut it."

"Uh, Rose can do that!"

"If you want to eat, you need to skin and gut your own food," Francis told her, starting to walk away.

Anne scowled. "Fine!" She cried out, going over to the dead hare. She put her leather gloves on and lifted it, putting it away from her face as far as her arm could reach before making her way back over to the camp.

"I have it," she told her father, gaining Rose's attention. "What do I do now? It's so disgusting!"

Rose let out a laugh, shaking her head in disbelief as she struggled to gut her own hare. She tutted and stopped, allowing Robin to show her how to do it properly. She quietly thanked him and scowled at a smug Anne's way.

"You want to dig the knife just enough inside to get the lining on which the fur is on," John said.

Anne gagged and nodded, taking a seat as she accepted a knife from her father and dug it into the hare's chest. She dragged her knife down and yelped when its guts began to spill out.

"Father! I can't! It's too-"

"Give it here, I will do it," John said, taking the hare with his bare hands.

"I guess as Queen of Sweden, you won't have to go hunting with the King," Francis stated. "But then again, he won't be impressed all that much by his French bride. He will tire of your lack of interesting attributes and-"

"I guess I can force whatever bile that wants to come up my throat down," Anne said, rolling her eyes and getting the hare back.

That evening, she had successfully skinned and gutted her dinner, a shiny brand new dagger in her possession from her beloved father.

...

"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned," Francis said softly. "It has been six months since my last confession. Since then I have lied. So blatantly and to those I love."

"Go on, my child," Pope Clement said.

"I tell them that I have accepted death - that I am not afraid of dying but in all honesty, between you, me and God, I am," Francis told him tearfully. "Of course I am. I am no stranger to knowing that kings die young or kings do not even get the chance to be kings and I became king when I was barely a man. Sixteen or seventeen, a young man with hopes, dreams and a future. Until the future was made bleak with no light on the other end. I do not want my children, my wife, my siblings and my mother to suffer but they will when I die. I can only hope they receive all the support they can get and my death does not make more repercussions for them as it has already. I want to live, so badly but I know my end is near. How can I be strong for them if I can't be for myself?"

The Pope sighed heavily. "So it is true? The King of France is dying?"

"I am, Your Holiness."

"It is a shame," the Pope replied. "There have been good kings before you, some who have lost their way and found it once again and some who never did in the first place. I had faith in you, Francis, after your father's death. I saw a victorious future coming your way but as you said, it is made bleak with this unfortunate situation. The only thing you can do now is, to be honest. With yourself, with your loved ones and with God. I cannot give you more comfort in your time of need other than tell you that God will welcome you with open arms, my child."

"I hope so," Francis whispered. "I have done many bad things. In favour of my family and country - I always do the things I do for my country."

The Pope nodded. "And your sins, forgiven," Pope Clement said before smiling sadly. "I too have wondered how close to death I am. But it is with God's strength I am able to carry on and be there for the Vatican. You will find your strength, once you set yourself free of your burdens."

Francis frowned. "What burdens?"

"The past is such a terrible hold, is it not?" The Pope asked. "Things you believed long since resolved, they come back to restrain you, to prevent you from passing on. Forgive those who do you harm and God will forgive you. Or have you forgotten your Bible studies, Francis?"

Francis let out a soft chuckle. "No, Holy Father, I have not."

"It is a sin to lie," Clement told him with a small smile.

"I am already damned, asking for forgiveness," Francis replied cheekily. "Matthew chapter 6, verse 14."

"Ah, you _do_ remember."

"I can never forget," Francis whispered softly. "I have too much time on my hands."

Clement smiled wryly. "'But if you do not forgive men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive yours.'"

Francis furrowed his brows. "Even if they... hurt my son? Almost kill my brother? Poisoned my father? Raped my sister? Poisoned me?"

"We are not accountable for the actions of others," Pope began. "Nor can we be part of their redemption but we can let go of the past and accept that we can't save everyone. If we had it our way, no brothers will be killed, sons abused, fathers poisoned nor sisters raped. And we would be happy but God had put us on this Earth for a reason and the things that make us who we are today, they will either make us or break us but we should never let them break us. Do you understand?"

Francis nodded. "I do, thank you," he said. "We should get ready for the christenings."

"Sweet, sweet children," Pope Clement said fondly. "They are blessings not to be taken for granted. Your heirs, your legacies carried on. You can only wish for your daughter to grow up knowing her father was one of France's greatest kings. I wish you and your family all the best."

"Thank you," Francis whispered.

As Caterina and Sophia were being christened, the Pope's words swirled in Francis's mind. He barely listened to the service, only giving signs of life with mere nods of the head and small smiles when godparents were announced and prayers were said before going back to his mind once more.

"What plagues your mind?" Mary asked as she got him ready for bed that night. She was to go to her own bedchambers, Catherine was coming soon to take her nightly vigil.

"Nothing," Francis said, kissing his wife softly. "I can't wait to take you without exhausting myself. That's all. You are looking quite delectable tonight."

Mary blushed and smiled, reaching up to cup his cheeks. "Soon," she whispered. "You are getting better..."

"But it's not permanent," he finished her unspoken words.

Mary looked conflicted but she held her tongue. "Sleep well."

"I never do."

"Francis?" Mary asked in alarm. "Do you need something from Ambroise-"

"Without my wife by my side," Francis cut her off.

Mary replied with a shaky breath, resting her forehead against his. "I want nothing more than to be asleep by your side but I can't hinder your recovery."

"It's been months-"

"Painful as they are," Mary said. "But soon."

Francis kissed her deeply before pecking her nose, cheeks and forehead. "I will miss you."

"And I, you," she breathed out easily, kissing him once more before leaving.

As she passed the large windows, she spied a little princess outside, sitting on the grass under the night sky with a lamp by her side. Mary sighed and retrieved her cloak before making her way outside to join the princess.

"What's that?" Mary asked her, gesturing to the item in the girl's hand that she was flicking open and closed.

"Papa's dagger," Anne replied softly as if her voice could wake the whole castle this late and even outdoors. "It has his initials - F. V. A Regnum."

Mary kissed the side of her head. "It's beautiful."

"Gold handle, sharp... Great for skinning and gutting," Anne told her mother. "A perfect fit."

"Well, kings and queens are always a perfect fit," Mary told her daughter. "You will be fine, Annie. I swear it. I was not as scared as you to marry young but I still had my reservations."

Anne nodded. "And did you get over them?"

"I think six children are as much evidence enough for that," Mary replied with a bright smile.

"Oh, of course!" Anne giggled.

"Head up, shoulders straight," Mary commanded. "And a cool and steady mind. Behind every great man, there is an even great woman."

Anne gave her mother a wide smile. "I love you, Mama."

"I love you too, darling," Mary said, pulling her to her side. "Let's find Rose. I think there are some chocolate and strawberries for us to eat this night."

Anne stood and pulled her mother up as well. "Then, what are we waiting for?"


	77. A Terrified Husband of The Queen

**Going straight into this.**

* * *

"Ready or not, here I come!"

Francis left the throne hall, making his way through the castle on a mission. He stopped right outside and let out a disbelieving shake of his head when he saw the curtains shift.

Then he heard the giggle and whispers.

"Do you think he'll find us?" Xander asked.

"No, Papa will _never_ think to look here!" James replied.

Francis crossed his arms and slowly walked up to the hidden figures. He contemplated exposing them, a smile playing on his lips. He heard someone and he turned his head, spotting Bash walking down with Cassius and Leith flanking his sides.

"Brother," Francis greeted him as the men bowed. "I am looking for multiple princes and princesses."

Bash smiled. "Are you now?" He asked, all men turning to the place where the childish voices ceased. "Perhaps I can help."

"Please do," Francis replied before they both pulled both ends of the curtain to reveal James and Alexander. "There you are!"

"Oh, no!" James whined. "How did you find us?!"

Leith laughed. "Perhaps you should learn to be a little quieter next time," he replied.

Cassius merely tapped the side of his nose. "I'll help you find _better_ places, little princes. Go along, help the King find the rest."

The boys scuttered away, excited giggles in their wake as Francis turned to the men.

"Have you found James Stewart?" He asked.

Bash nodded. "I have him in a safe house - he'll come tomorrow morning into Mary's primary care."

"Does anyone know?" Francis asked. _Has anyone sounded the alarm_?

"His governess," Bash replied. "She came with us."

Cassius nodded. "They are loyal to the Queen, Your Majesty. They will not betray her trust and we have made arrangements to reward them for their efforts."

"Good," Francis said approvingly. "Relay this to Mary. I have children to seek."

He walked away, spots coming into his vision but he blinked them away. He'll play with the children first and then rest. Any day now, Paré and Nostradamus will find a cure.

...

"There you are!" Francis cried out, lifting Anastasia into his arms and wiping the sugary dust from her nose. "Decided to help out the cooks in your hiding?"

Ana giggled and nodded, wrapping her arms around her uncle's neck. "Yes, Your Majesty!"

"Well, what did you help them make?"

"I helped them make strawberry tarts," she said. "Aunt Mary and Maman love them!"

Francis grinned. "May I have one now?"

She pursed her lips in thought before nodding. "Yes, you may!"

Francis chuckled and put her back down before he swiped a tart from the serving tray and ate it in one gulp. He gave the cooks and Ana a nod of approval before taking the girl's hand and leading her out, thanking the cooks for accommodating the little child.

"I have found James and Xander," he told her. "Who do you think we will find next?"

"Urm," Ana hummed. "Rose!"

Francis beamed. "I think she'll be difficult to find but we will try," he replied, holding his hand out for James to take as Xander ran on.

They headed to the gardens, finding the Queen and her ladies and sister-in-laws stitching or doing embroidery. They giggled at the sight of the dishevelled children and King.

"Anastasia, look at your face!" Kenna cried out, getting up to wipe her daughter's face-off with her handkerchief. "So messy. I thought we spoke about this?"

"Maman, I'm having fun!" Ana cried out, making her aunts and godmothers laugh.

Mary looked up at her husband. "Who are you seeking next?"

"Rose," he told her. "She's taken to the outdoors lately. Perhaps we'll be lucky with a few hints?"

Mary smirked knowingly, looking back down at her stitchings. "Nope."

"Mary..."

"Francis..." She replied in kind, meeting his eyes. "You have three little helpers. I can't give you any inklings to where the others are."

Francis's eyes shifted over to the table full of champagne and sugary treats. It wasn't that windy but the table cloth moved and he smirked, turning back to his wife.

"Which one?" He asked.

Mary hummed, shrugging. "I do not know what you're talking about, Your Majesty."

Francis turned to her ladies. "Any hints, kind ladies?"

Greer scoffed. "I know nothing, Your Majesty," she replied. "Dumb as a dog, I am!"

"Children?" Lola queried. "What are 'children'?"

Claude raised her hands up. "Don't even _dare_ to question us! I will never give my son's hiding spot up!"

Leeza nodded. "As Claude said. You have Robin, Rose, Anne, John, Kitty, Bella, Lawrence, Peter and Joseph to seek. I wish you all the-"

"Hello, boys," Francis said, lifting the table cloth up.

The twins and Lawrence groaned loudly, sending their mothers and aunts deep glares.

"We didn't give you up!" Mary cried out.

"You should have sent him away!" Peter pouted.

"Oh, Maman!" Joseph added, shaking his head at her.

Francis laughed, ruffling all three's heads. "Come along, you cheeky boys. Let's leave the women to their hard work."

The boys waved the women off before joining James, Xander and Ana in going to the stables. Francis bowed to the ladies, making them laugh and giggle before laughing himself and following after the excited children.

...

Robin's eye opened, keeping the other closed as he inspected his surroundings. He could hear a lot of chatter and he glanced down, spotting Francis and the six found children below him.

He laughed to himself quietly, closing his eyes once again from his position lounging up in the tree. They couldn't get to-

"Found you!" Xander cried out, staring right into his brother's green eyes with an evil grin.

"Argh!"

They all gasped as Robin fell out of the tree, landing with a sickening crunch.

"Robin!" Francis cried out, getting on his knees to roll the boy onto his back. "Where does-"

"My leg!" Robin yelled out, glaring at his younger brother who was climbing down from the tree. "Alexander, I will kill-"

"It's not my fault Papa taught us how to climb trees!" Xander said, kicking his brother's side.

"Alexander!" Francis cried out, resisting the urge to laugh at such a trying time. "Go to the others. Your brother needs space."

Robin glared as the boy pulled a face at him before scowling and crying out in pain. "It's broken, isn't it?"

Francis nodded warily. "Sorry, Robin. I didn't know you'd frighten easily."

"I didn't get a fright!" Robin cried out, blushing. "I was caught unaware."

"Of course you were," Francis said, chuckling. "Right, I'll help you back to the castle and find the rest to finish the game."

"Don't," Robin said. "I mean, end the game. Continue. It's been ages since you had all of this energy. Spend it with them. I'll be fine, as tough as old boots."

Francis smiled fondly, nodding. "Alright. Come up."

He stood and helped Robin stand, letting him lean on him for support as they all made their way back to the castle. Francis could feel his strength leaving him and he decided to go to the women instead, seeing Kenna stand in concern and rush over.

"What-"

"I fell out of a tree, Mother," Robin quickly said, blushing. "No reason to be concerned."

Francis sighed. "He broke his leg. I would help him inside..." His eyes met Kenna's and she nodded in understanding.

She took over with, "Lean on me, you silly boy," she muttered. "I'll take you down to the doctor and Nostradamus."

Francis smiled wryly, waving them off as Lola went to also support the two to see the healer and doctor. He turned to Xander and crossed his arms.

"Why did you kick your brother when he was already down?"

"He's annoying!" Xander cried out. "Because he's the oldest, he thinks he can bully _me_? He has another thing coming!"

Francis snorted. "You're so like-"

"Your mother," Mary breathed out in disbelief. "Jesus, these children take after their parents in so many ways, it's scary."

Greer chuckled, nodding. "Kenna used to give Robert and Douglas grief as children. She learnt how to stand her ground from an early age, it's no wonder Anastasia's such a fireball!"

"Well, perhaps we should take a short break to cool off before continuing," Francis said, taking Kenna's seat and sighing heavily in relief.

...

Anne stepped out of the secret door and dusted her dress off with a smug smirk as she walked down the hall. It had been almost two hours since the game started and she still hadn't been found.

She hoped they hadn't forgotten about the game.

"Psst!"

She halted, turned and saw Rose waving her over. She laughed when she saw Rose dressed in a servant's get up.

"Seriously?"

"You should do the same," Rose said, twirling around. "Keep your head down, they never question it because servants must _never_ meet their superior's gaze."

Anne gasped. "You sneaky so and so! Alright, where's the dress?"

After getting dressed in a servant's dress and tying a bandana over her luscious locks after dirtying it to remove its shine, the girls kept together, heads down as they walked around the castle.

Catherine walked passed and she halted, turning to see the girls hurry on.

"You two, stop!"

The girls froze, hearts beating loudly as they shared a quick glance.

"I requested wine three hours ago!" Catherine said. "Where is it?"

Anne grinned as Rose tried to stop her laughter from coming out.

Anne quickly said, "Q-Queen Mother, Your M-Majesty..." A soft snort from both girls. "We will get it right away!"

"You better otherwise I'll feed you to the dogs," Catherine muttered, rolling her eyes and walking off.

"Dear Lord!" Rose breathed out.

"Thank God she didn't see our faces!" Anne replied, sighing in relief. "Come on."

They continued on and spotted Nostradamus's door wide open. They saw a bedbound Robin and frowned, his father berating him for falling asleep in a tree as his mother agreed with everything her husband said.

The girls giggled and continued on, shaking their head at their cousin's mishap.

Heads down, they passed Francis and the overexcited children. They held their breaths and they walked on before they heard footsteps following after. They daren't look up or back as they walked on.

Until they felt hands on their shoulders.

"Do you really believe I wouldn't recognise my own daughters' hair colours?" Francis asked, smirking.

Anne let out a frustrated scream, turning to face him. "You-"

"How?!" Rose cried out.

"Again, dirty your hair as much as you want but I know _everything_ about my children. Every single detail," Francis told them, pressing quick kisses on their foreheads. "Come on, help me find John, Kitty and Bella."

"Urgh, fine," Anne mumbled, crossing her arms as she stropped.

...

John let out a sneeze from his position behind the thrones. It was genius, hiding in the one place the seeker wouldn't bother checking, assuming they all left the room.

He laughed to himself and stood, stretching his body out before making his way down the steps and to the centre of the room. He will miss this place when he and Anne go to Sweden and a fond smile played on his lips as he stuffed his hands in his pockets and made to leave.

But then the sounds of whispers stopped him and he turned to find Bella and Kitty emerging from the curtains sneakily.

"Oh, hello," he said, grinning when they stopped and saw him. "Got the same idea, did you?"

Bella nodded, smirking. "Of course. We figured the King wouldn't spend effort looking _here_."

Kitty giggled. "Indeed," she said, agreeing with her older sister's words. "Although I am quite tired of this game. It has been hours."

John nodded in agreement. "My back hurts."

"We should give ourselves up," Bella suggested.

John narrowed his eyes. "It's a trap," he said. "The reward was one thousand crowns and you want me to give _up_?"

"He's your father, he will spoil you," Kitty stated.

Bella shrugged in indifference. "We just want to buy a few nice dresses. We do not exactly have any wealth now with our father abandoning us."

John sighed heavily and crossed his arms. "Fine. We will _share_ the reward."

The three made their way out of the hall, checking left and checking right. They began to sneak down, heading right just in case. Before they knew it, they heard Francis question the others about their hiding spots.

It didn't take long for him to find them ducking behind a wall.

"Isabella," he called out. "I saw you first. Now whoever I see next determines who gets the prize."

Bella stepped away from the wall and curtseyed, smirking as she saw that Kitty was _behind_ John and practically covered by his frame. "Come and see for yourself, Tío," she replied coyly.

Francis walked down, his steps slow and calculated as he raised his brow. His hands clasped behind his back and he stopped, slowly turning to his left to spot Kitty first.

"Catherine," he said, making Bella gasp in surprise to see that John had quickly hidden behind the girl at the last second. "You are found."

"Damn it!" Kitty cried out, crossing her arms angrily before laughing with the others.

"That makes John the winner," Francis said, applauding with the children. "One thousand crowns, as promised." He placed the money pouch into John's waiting hands.

John grinned and turned to his cousins and half-siblings. "I'd like to share my winnings if it's all the same to you?"

"Yes!" They all cried out, coming to surround him and taking a piece from his winnings.

It wasn't much, amounting to eighty-three crowns each but it was enough for them all to buy treats when they next visit the town's pastry shops.

"Right, we've been playing for so long, it's time to eat," Francis told them. "Did we all have fun?"

"Yes!" The children said, the little ones giggling.

Francis beamed, lifting Peter into his arms as he brushed James's hair from his eyes and gave the older children a bright smile. This was home, surrounded by children, his and his siblings'.

It stung, the reminder that his life was shortening but this moment, times like these, made him more at peace.

Forgiveness was in his heart after all and the children's chatter music to his ears.

He placed Peter down and quickly excused himself, backing into a corner as the children hurried off to go and eat. Controlling his sudden panic attack, Francis let a sob escape his lips and covered his mouth in case one heard him and came back.

But he failed.

"Father?" Rose whispered, coming to stand in front of him.

Francis shook his head. "I'm fine-"

"Just hug me," she demanded, pulling his arms around her as she rested her face against his neck.

"God, you're so tall," he muttered, pressing a kiss on the side of her head.

Rose swallowed hard. "I know you are terrified," she whispered. "About death."

Francis took a sharp intake of breath. "Rose-"

"Never show it _fear_," she reminded him of his words to her. "But if you need to cry... I can handle it. Because of you, I am strong and I will never be weak. I am afraid of nothing. I have experienced things no one as ever..." Hers and Robin's kidnapping... "So I've wisened before my years."

Francis laughed softly. "Good."

Rose smiled, tightening her hold. "Cry, Papa, _cry_."

So he did, tightening his hold on her as she smiled sadly and closed her eyes. She will never forget her father's warm hold on her. _Never_.


	78. A Stunned Queen

**Replies to reviews:**

**Guest (1) [chapter 77]: She really is! She and Anne have more moments in this chapter.**

**elder441 [chapter 77]: Get ready for some more smiles and tears. And a little bit of tenseness.**

**BlerBlerBler [chapter 77]: Get ready for more sad and angsty moments. Francis really is the best dad and uncle in the world.**

**Righto, back in the day they didn't perform certain surgeries as it wasn't until the recent centuries that they were discovered. We're getting closer to chapter 80 and I wanted to cure Francis so to speak to focus on the next situation - bringing Darnley down. I've done my research and the real-life Francis had an array of possible diseases and was even considered to be poisoned because back then, whew were people crazy and murderous haha. So, this chapter will be focused on Paré finding a 'cure' (bearing in mind this is a recent cure and would not exist back then as extensive research has been done over the centuries) and he gives the King and company odds of his survival to which family and friends ponder that. We're getting into tetchy waters basically. I've been enjoying reading Frary stories over and over again and have even got a request from a friend at uni who is trying to take my mind off everything. My brother and I have been even playing Sims and quarantining our Sims by putting everything they leave their house for in their house (we made them rich by cheats, sue us haha) so we're basically trying to move onto being happy and calm and continuing staying safe. Thanks for reading guys and being supportive. You truly are wonderful. Stay safe.**

**We are in September now by the way and we've got some of Dr Paré's view. I've also taken inspiration from the show on certain scenes.**

**I'm not sure if I'm happy with this chapter. I don't know, my writer's block got to this one in particular if I'm honest. But after reading all of those happy Frary fics, I had to rework a little bit.**

* * *

"Je le pansai, Dieu le guérit," Paré said, circling a cure he finally found. He looked up to see his candle nearly dying out. "I bandaged him and God healed him."

The light went out and he fell asleep right there and then, the dark plaguing over him as he slept soundly for the first time in a while. His wife and daughters had been very heavy on coaxing him to bed, to rest or to eat but he couldn't fail their king.

"Our King would prefer it if his doctor didn't fall asleep tending to him," his eldest daughter had told him.

Paré laughed softly in his sleep, a wide smile gracing his lips when he remembered replying with, "Our King doesn't sleep at all and fell asleep _as_ I tended to him!"

Come morning, he took a long bath, his wife helping him to scrub at his back with the bar of soap. It was a luxury, all of these commodities being gifted to him by the Queen for his efforts in trying to save her husband.

He had found a cure. He will present the case to the King and Queen and hope his life wouldn't end if things went wrong.

"Are you sure?" His wife asked softly.

"Should I be unsuccessful as I was when treating his father, at least I have lived a long life-"

"Ambroise!" His wife scolded. "They won't punish you for your efforts."

Paré smiled. "I know," he replied. "I just hope everything goes well. Presenting my surgery case is one thing. The King accepting it is another. But the two Queens who bend my ears from one side to another? The Queen Mother threatens me, the Queen herself praises me. I shan't let either down and I must save their son and husband."

"Am-"

"Jacqui..."

His wife quietened and smiled widely. "I am proud of you."

Paré patted her hand lovingly. "Write up the reports for our estate. The August yield have been generated."

"You are just trying to take my mind off this," Jacqueline replied. "I've done the reports to death whilst you've been squirrelling away for months downstairs with that strange man."

Ambroise chuckled. "Then get started on this month's reports. I have a King to save."

...

"The Princess Royal, Princess Anne has returned!"

Mary stood from her throne, watching as her eldest daughter and her travel companions in the form of her ladies-in-waiting from noble Scottish Houses, her guards that included John and servants and handmaidens, some of whom had fresh faces probably originating from Sweden as gifts.

She could feel her daughter's relief from her position and although both Queen and daughter kept their composure, their shared glance said it all. Mary wanted nothing more than to bring her child into her arms and hold her tightly.

She needed the comfort, her husband was worsening and the only things that brought comfort were the facts that Darnley was in hiding, Darnley's son was enjoying his stay at the French Court albeit secretly as he was in the private quarters permanently, James was becoming a proper little Dauphin and at his young childish age requested to be included in matters of the state in which he joined his mother in listening to the worries of the French people along with his mother's cousin from Scotland and finally the fact that Anne was fast becoming. A queen from the reports she received from the Queen Mother of Sweden.

Anne curtseyed low. "Your Majesty," she said, greeting her mother and turning to James. "Your Royal Highness."

James twitched to latch onto his sister but the stern glare from his governess, Harriet (who had been specifically hired for the future King since his father's illness as opposed to the regular governesses that tended to the children) had stopped him in his tracks as he folded his hands behind his back and gave his sister a nod.

"Welcome home, Princess Anne," Mary said, stepping down to cup her daughter's cheeks.

Anne's eyes sparkled with tears. Tears she'd been holding in since she left home the beginning of June. She had so much to tell everyone but now wasn't the time as her facade grew and her eyes cleared up.

"It's wonderful to be home," Anne said.

After formally greeting her mother and brother in front of Court, Anne took a walk in the gardens, the gift that Oskar had given her in her hands. It was a portrait inside a locket - of himself, the vain goose!

But he wasn't vain, he had thought the comfort of having something from her new home would be warm and dear to her. They had had a great time, engaging in balls and secret dates to the mountains.

She fell in love with him because she opened her heart, remembering what her father had told her.

Oskar promised her with, "I will try and get over the one who holds my heart. First, she will have to give it back but it will be yours."

"Annie?"

Anne stopped and turned, smiling brightly at Rose. "Rosie."

"Forgive me for saying this but it looks like you've aged a thousand years," Rose said lightly, coming forward to hug her tightly.

"So have you," Anne replied, running her fingers through Rose's hair. "Tell me, about our siblings. Did they behave themselves?"

Rose pulled away, laughing softly. She looked so much like Papa, her smile was Papa's, Anne believed in surprise.

"Caterina walks. Her tenth month of living brought a lot of surprises. Guess whose bedchambers she walked towards?"

"Whose?"

Rose smiled sadly. "Father's. She walked in as if she owned the place and he was so overjoyed..."

"And how is... the King?" Anne looked down, it was better to detach herself. She had made a decision.

"Anne..."

"How is he?" Anne shakily asked.

Rose's face fell. "Any day now. He has good days and bad ones. He has had a lot of bad ones, this past month coming into now. Aunt Leeza married the King of Prussia. Her, Bella and Kitty left to live with him. James has taken on the weight of a crown at only seven years of age and I have signed my own marriage arrangement."

Anne stared at her in disbelief. "To who?"

"A Scottish cousin," Rose said dismissively. "No one to be overly excited about. Tell me about Sweden! The food, the music, the atmosphere?"

Anne looked away, still taking everything in. "I married Oskar. I will be leaving for Swedish Court permanently after Christmas."

Rose let out a breath of air in shock. "Anne! Y-You were supposed to... How come Mother and Father didn't..."

"Not formally," Anne quickly said. "The official marriage does not come until next year as planned but we... we had a private ceremony between us. It was for _us_ and no one else. And with Father's health... I have to be stronger now more than ever and make decisions he'd be proud of me for even thinking."

"I can't believe you'd leave us!"

"I am not!"

"You are!" Rose cried out tearfully. "While we're stuck here watching our father die, you run away!"

Anne felt as if she'd been slapped. "I haven't _run away_ from anything! Rose, let me tell you now. You will be a more powerful queen than me one day but you must never forget that Dauphine of Scotland used to be _my_ title once. It comes with responsibility, being a queen so start acting like one and stop crying, blaming other people when you are a sheep that follows the dog."

Rose didn't say anything more, merely left in silence, suddenly wishing her sister never returned home but stayed with her new, happy life in bloody Sweden.

...

Mary stopped brushing her hair when a knock sounded on her door and the page announced the arrival of Paré. She placed her brush down and rose, lifting her skirts and opening the door herself to let the old man inside, closing the door behind him.

"I have found a cure," Paré said carefully. "But it comes with great risks - odds of survival. Roughly about thirty per cent chance."

"Tell me," Mary said evenly.

Paré sighed heavily. "A mastoidectomy. So many drawbacks come with it, naturally with any surgery performed. Permanent deafness for starters if successful to an extent. Although hearing could be affected but kept. Before I would do that surgery, I will try one last myringotomy where I insert a tube into the eardrum to relieve pressure by draining the ear as I've been doing."

Mary paced the room, her lips forming a thin line. She paced for ten minutes before finally stopping and nodding with a confirmation of his suggestion. "Very well."

"Will you help me bring it forward with the King himself?"

"Yes, in fact, right now."

Mary and Paré found Anne pacing in front of her father's bedchambers and she froze, eyes wide at the Queen and doctor. She gave her mother a small smile and bowed her head, quickly hurrying by.

"Anne...!"

Mary sighed and turned back to nod at the guards who let them inside. She found Francis asleep, his mother on the chair right beside him and she gently coaxed Catherine awake, stating that the doctor needed to treat his patient.

The Queen Mother warily stood and accepted being kicked out but not for too long she warned them before leaving.

"Mary?"

"It's me, my love," Mary said, taking a seat by his bedside. "How are you feeling?"

Francis furrowed his brows. "Anne is supposed to be here by now."

"She was tired from her journey," Mary excused their daughter. "The doctor has something to tell you."

"What is it?"

Paré cleared his throat. "A permanent fix, Your Majesty." When he was done explaining, he asked Francis, "Well, Your Majesty?"

Francis's eyes flickered to his wife briefly before he eyed the doctor. "Forget the other one - you keep trying but the first one... that's the last resort, is it not?"

"It is," Ambroise said, nodding.

"Then do it. No more draining and waiting, just... do it."

Ambroise nodded. "As you wish. We could perform it now or-"

"Now," Francis said quietly. "Do it now."

...

"Amb-"

"I failed," Paré mumbled, downing his cup. "It's been a week and-"

"You tried. You told him the implications, presented the facts and he chose to go through with it."

Ambroise sighed heavily, getting up from his seat and collecting his clothes for the day. "I will see if he needs anything to ease the pain as he..."

"You said it yourself, this had never been done before," Jacqueline replied. "Not all surgeries performed for the very first time succeed. Extensive research had been put forward, tests trialled... Ambroise, it is no fault of your own. You did all you could. A doctor loses patients sometimes, you are no God."

"I am not but God gave me hands for a reason! A brain full of medical knowledge for a reason!" Ambroise replied. "What use am I if I can't use them efficiently to treat patients? Treat kings?"

Jacqueline nodded slowly. "I will leave you alone to sulk but you must remember, the King thanks you for your efforts. Whilst you were sulking, he personally had the Queen grant us lands for your eldest daughters and their families. They are to leave ours for theirs soon."

"That's good," Ambroise mumbled. "Go. I will be in better spirits soon, I promise."

His wife pressed a kiss on his cheek and left, leaving him feeling more disappointed than before.

...

Kenna flinched when the axe met the block of wood harshly, splitting the damned thing into multiple pieces as opposed to two. She watched as her husband paused for a break, the sweat glistening down his bare chest and back as he wiped his forehead and continued to cut the wood.

"It's cold," she said, hoping her voice would carry in the wind.

"So?"

"You will catch a cold," Kenna told him.

Bash stopped. "I'm feeling perfectly warm," he replied tersely. "What do you want?"

Kenna's eye twitched. "Don't be like that. Not to me at least."

"Like what?"

Kenna scoffed, crossing her arms. "Bash-"

"My brother is dying, Kenna. We've tried all we could. It's been a week since the last resort treatment was performed," Bash told her, turning his head to look at her. "The doctor gave him thirty per cent to survive and it looks like the seventy per cent is working hard."

Kenna's brows furrowed. "Now, you just have to bear it. We need to prepare."

"For what?"

"Bash, Francis's death means _a lot_ for us," Kenna told him. "And also for Mary. James will be King of France and the Netherlands and you will have sworn to Francis that you'd protect him and be loyal to him and be a good uncle and Deputy to the child. Where would that put me and our children? Me forever helping Mary and her mourning heart? And our children unsure of how to comfort their bereft cousins? You and I need to be clear to each other where we stand. If it's in France, Scotland or wherever else..."

Bash frowned deeply. "You think with my brother's death, I'd leave you for Mary?"

Kenna's eyes widened. She forgot how easily she could be read by her husband. He could read between the bloody lines and understand all of her inferences. They'd been together for fifteen years now. Her whole adult life so far being his wife and mother to his children. She mentally cursed, keeping her steely gaze on him.

"Mary would have needs-"

"Don't-"

"Francis won't be in your way-"

"Kenna-"

"I've seen the both of you," Kenna finally whispered. "As Francis was confined most of the time. Every meeting, every order, every look, every hug..."

"There are no looks! As for hugs, I am comforting her over Francis. You know Francis. My brother, who is dying and is her husband and father to her children?" Bash cried out in disbelief. "You are seeing things that aren't there. You're deluded. And even if there was, I don't think I'd ever go for my brother's widow. Not when her children exist, not when my wife exists nor our children!"

Kenna nods once. "I see."

"Yes," Bash snapped. "Please, do."

"So defensive," she muttered, pulling her cloak tighter around her frame as she scanned their surroundings.

"I swear to God, Kenna-"

"Aren't I within reason to ask?" She asked him, coming to stand in front of him. "I know you're doing things for Francis that needs you to talk to Mary and accept her orders and whatever else but make sure that is it between you both. You are _my_ husband, Sebastian. Remember that."

Before she could walk away, Bash pulled her to his chest and glared down at her. "I don't appreciate being accused of something I didn't do or even consider. Do you really not trust me after all of these years? After Robin, Ana, Xander and Sophia?"

Kenna shrugged indifferently. "I had a nightmare-"

"A nightmare! God, you Scottish women are really deluded-"

"Says the man who believed a damned prophecy meant he could get into my Queen's bed behind his brother's back!"

Bash flinched, letting go of her. "Go."

"Bash-"

"Go or we will really say things that we can never take back," Bash whispered.

Kenna looked away, pausing for a minute before pressing a kiss on his lips. When he didn't respond, she pulled away with a sigh and walked away.

"You're cold," she said, her voice breaking as she continued to walk back to the castle.

...

"Now, James," Anne began, running her fingers through her little brother's hair as they played soldiers in the boy's bedchambers which was heavily guarded. Even Harriet was in the room, quietly stitching whatever she was stitching on the rocking chair in the corner of the room. "You will be king one day." Not now, but one day. Whether it was coming or not, she didn't know.

"I don't want to be king," James whispered, tears threatening to fall. "It will mean Papa's gone. I want Papa. I want to play with Papa."

Anne smiled sadly. "I know," she whispered back. "But he would have gone knowing that you would do a wonderful job at being a king. The people of France and the Netherlands would look up to you. And you can always write to me in Sweden should you need help or someone to talk to. As for Rose... I think Maman and Papa have decided to let her attend studies in Scotland when things get calmer. But for now, she will be by your side and so will the twins and Little Cat."

James pouted, a whine emitting from his lips before he was full-on bawling. He latched onto Anne's chest, sobs shaking his tiny frame and Anne closed her eyes and sighed. She wouldn't cry nor would she scold him as their grandmother tended to do.

"Dauphin," Harriet called the boy, not looking up from her work. "Future kings do not cry."

"This one does!" James snapped back.

Harriet stood and Anne raised a hand towards her. "Don't scold my brother," she said slowly, unimpressed by the governess.

"You have not been here, you cannot command me. Only the King and the Queen-"

"I am a queen more or less," Anne snapped. "I command you to _sit_ and get on with your stitching, Governess."

Harriet baulked. "Excuse me?"

"You are excused," Anne said, lifting James onto her hip. "Come along, James. I think there are some biscuits in the kitchens."

As they headed in search of the sugary treats, Anne found John, Robin and Rose strolling around aimlessly in the gardens. It was a cold day, the rain had come pouring down in the early hours of the morning, leaving its surroundings wet but neither cared.

"Perhaps you can play with Peter and Joseph," Anne suggested, wiping James's tears with one hand.

"I am not allowed," James mumbled, his head resting on her chest. "Not without Maman's permission, Governess Harriet said."

Anne rolled her eyes. "I doubt Maman would stop you from seeing them. Harriet is just being a bully. Thinks she can boss a future king around. No, she can't!"

James giggled at the cheeky tone his sister adopted. "I missed you."

"I missed you too," Anne whispered. She could feel her heart sink, breaking.

She turned to look into his blue eyes. He was such a handsome, little boy. A perfect mix of Mother and Father, so sweet and caring. He will be a good king.

"You are strong," Anne told him. "A good king is strong. Not only in body, but in mind. Remember that, James, and you will be just fine."

"Promise?"

Anne beamed through her tears. "I promise."

...

"Oh, Rose. I didn't know anyone would be-"

"You can join me," Rose told her aunt, smiling sadly. "Maman tends to come but she's isolated herself from everyone else. Taking this on alone."

Kenna smiled wryly. "Your mother deals with things her own way. She shouldn't push people away but she will always get there."

Rose nodded and returned the smile, kneeling once again as Kenna joined her. She held her hands together and closed her eyes, a prayer forming on her lips before the statue of Christ.

When they were finished, Rose accepted a tight hug from her aunt before leaving and spotting Anne outside, holding a spherical item in her hands tightly. She hadn't spoken to her in a week, things still tense between them following their argument when Anne returned home from Sweden. _Huh, home... Home is now Sweden for Anne, isn't it_, Rose bitterly thought before scolding herself.

She had literally stepped out of a chapel.

Shaking her head, she went back into the castle and found her grandmother leading James everywhere and nowhere at the same time. They were laughing, the Queen Mother busying herself by obsessing over her legitimate grandson as her illegitimate grandson followed dutifully, deciding to get some practice in as his future duties as Anne's guard in Sweden.

Who better than to shadow than the future King of France to whom had five other guards following him.

"Rose! Papa has a gift for you!"

Rose beamed down at her little brother. "Does he? And where might that be?"

James grinned. "Maybe your bedchambers..." He drawled, giggling when she feigned a surprised gasp.

"I will see you later!" Rose told him, hurrying to her rooms. She found her mother standing straight, turning to face her by the edge of her bed and she gave the Queen a coy smirk. "Maman?"

"Nothing..." Mary sang. "Just doing absolutely nothing."

Rose giggled and came over, gasping when she realised that her whole bedchambers were full of roses. Rose of blue, purple, pink, red and white in colour. Her eyes sparkled with tears and she turned, admiring the petals beneath her heels and on her walls and furniture.

"There's one special one on your bed."

Rose turned to her mother before nodding and going over to collect the glass sphere that had a red rose set inside it. Rose smiled happily, bringing it to her chest lovingly.

"It's beautiful, thank you," she said to her mother. "Tell Papa the same. I know he is not taking any visitors but..."

"I know," Mary whispered. "He knows."

Rose looked down at her gift again. "Will we be alright, Mother?"

Mary nodded, a small smile on her face. "We will, Rose."

"I believe you."

"Good," Mary breathed out before leaving Rose alone to her thoughts.

Rose laughed softly, inspecting the glass in the warm glow of the closest candle. What a pretty gift indeed, something she will cherish for life.

...

"Francis?"

"I'm still here," he mumbled softly, turning to stare into his wife's wide, teary brown eyes. "I'm still here." He cupped her cheek, brushing a tear away. "Tell me about Anne."

Mary sniffled. "She's outside, enjoying the fresh air."

"Good. She's been low of late. The fresh air will do wonders," Francis replied gently. "And James? How is he?"

"He doesn't know why he can't play with his papa," Mary told him shakily. "Catherine is taking his attention elsewhere."

"Make sure his rooms are cleaned-"

"I know."

"Protect him-"

"I know," Mary breathed out, tears spilling from her eyes. "And I will protect John, Joseph and Peter too. They are all safe. They are taking their studies seriously. They will grow to be great men, like their father."

Francis brushed his thumb over Mary's lips. "As determined and headstrong as their mother... How about my Sweet Rose? Did she enjoy her gift?"

Mary laughed softly, nodding. "You were right, roses all over her bedchambers was a beautiful sight to see. I had the one on her bed set in glass. The one you kissed. Rose represents love, concentration, balance and passion."

"Her mother's daughter."

Mary blushed furiously. "For Anne, the orchid. Love, luxury, beauty and strength."

Francis gave her a soft smile. "She does have a taste for the finer things. The epitome of a royal princess. Who is strong and will be a strong queen for a strong king."

Mary laid her head on his chest and he managed to catch her lips in a kiss before she rested her head. Her fingers played with the exposed blonde wisps of hair on his chest and she dug her face into his chest.

"Don't leave me, Francis. Caterina is not even a year old..."

"Ah, how can I forget Caterina?" Francis breathed out in wonder. "Seeing her first steps brought joy to my heart. I hate to miss more firsts with her. With any of them but..."

Mary looked up at him. "I can't lose you, my love. Fight this. Fight for us, for our children... Fight for you." She shut her eyes.

Francis swallowed hard. "Crysanthemum for my youngest daughter. Fidelity, joy and long life..."

Mary could hear his heart rate slowing down and she began to sob when it completely stopped. She gripped onto his shirt tightly and her sobs became gasping hiccups when the door opened and Catherine appeared, heartbroken.

"He's gone," Mary confirmed her suspicions. "Long live the king..."

...

"Mary?"

"Don't... Don't announce it," Mary whispered, running her fingers through Francis's hair as she cradled his head on her lap.

Catherine looked down. "I paid the guards off. Dr Paré will come to confirm the death."

Mary let out a sob. "No..."

"Mary-"

"Why us?" Mary croaked out, pressing a wet kiss on Francis's pale head. "Why?"

Catherine shakily sat down on the chaise, feeling overwhelmed as she shrugged helplessly. She had no answer for the first time in her life and all she wanted to do was to hug her son tightly and promise him that all would be alright.

But she couldn't.

He was dead.

And the feeling of having your child die before you broke her heart even more. He was supposed to live a long life, watch his children grow up and marry. But he couldn't.

A knock on the door drew her gaze to it as Mary would rather tend to her beloved husband, pressing kisses on his head over and over again.

"C-Come in," Catherine said, getting up and fixing her composure as it could be Ambroise.

But it wasn't.

"Sebastian."

Mary looked up and saw Bash take a sharp intake of breath. "Bash is here," she said quietly to Francis. "You aren't alone. You will never be alone."

Catherine turned back to Bash. "When the time is right, we will announce it. I doubt Mary is in the right frame of mind to be regent so... Would you... t-take..."

Bash blinked in surprise before he nodded in understanding. "I will take care of matters. What about you?"

Catherine smiled wryly. "A bottle of wine is calling my name. At least for just a day. Or two. Or a month. Or forever," her voice broke.

"You're so handsome," Mary's voice drew their eyes back to her. "So peaceful..." Her eyes were transfixed on Francis's face. To her, he was probably sleeping. The shock was now instilled in her brain and she refused to believe otherwise. "Do you want to hear a song? It's in Scottish - you love when I speak Scottish."

"Excuse me," Bash mumbled, leaving quickly before everything he ate that day ended up on the floor outside the bedchambers.

He heaved, closing his eyes as he supported himself with a hand on the wall. He was shaking, he knew because he stared at his other hand which was violently moving with great anxiety and distress.

He rarely prayed but right now, his lips said a prayer.

...

Paré watched as Catherine and Claude led Mary out of the chambers, the Queen begging to remain by her King's side. He bowed his head in respect and he and Nostradamus took a minute of silence.

When they were ready, Ambroise stepped closer and took Francis's wrist in his hand, pressing two fingers against Francis's wrist. He gasped when he felt something. Faint, but present. Perhaps the Queen had been mistaken because this man was most certainly still alive.

As if that wasn't more convincing, sweat began to build up and Francis let out an incoherent mumble as he _slept_.

"Are you seeing what I am seeing?" Ambroise asked Nostradamus. "I am nearing eighty years of age, please make me sound sane."

"You are of sound mind," Nostradamus confirmed, brushing back Francis's hair. "He's breathing."

"He's _fighting_," Paré replied. "Quick, pass me the vial in the top drawer."

Nostradamus grabbed the vial and handed it to the doctor who quickly worked to shove some of the liquid down Francis's throat.

"Now what?" Nostradamus asked, looking up at the doctor whose eyes remained on the King.

"We wait," he said. "Quickly inform the Queens _not_ to say anything."

Nostradamus nodded and left. He truly hoped they would not return to a dead queen after everything they'd been through over the past year to save his life.

...

"Your Majesty?"

Mary opened her eyes, wishing that it was all a dream. That she hadn't lost her husband, the man who kept her going, the one who had her heart. She swallowed hard and sat up in her bed to meet Ambroise's smiling face.

_Was it a dream_?

"What is it? Why do you smile?" She demanded to know, getting out of the bed and putting her silk slippers on.

Paré laughed self-deprecatingly. "It turns out a little rest after such a surgery was needed. The King - he's awake. He was just fighting a fever brought on by the surgery and it weakened his body but he kept fighting. Your Majesty, he's _alive_."

Mary's eyes widened and she hurried out of her doors and through Francis's. She got onto the bed and cupped his cheeks, making him groan.

"Francis?!"

"What's the noise about, woman?" Francis asked lightly, his voice stronger but still tired.

Mary let out a yelp, falling off him onto her side in surprise. She squinted her eyes shut and waited before opening them up again and staring at Francis who raised his eyebrows up in amusement.

"Do you need some water?" He asked her.

"You... bloody...!"

"Mary... I'm fine," Francis said softly, lifting her hand to his lips for a kiss. "I'm sorry for scaring you. I'm fine, I swear it. I feel better, I feel so... _free_."

Mary turned away from him, tears in her eyes. "You died in my arms."

"Not exactly. Then again, you are not a doctor. It's a good thing you aren't as well because you really can't tell whether someone is dead or alive," her husband replied teasingly. "Mary-"

"So, it's over?"

Francis nodded. "I believe so. I am to keep a strict routine of a few remedies but I am fighting fit. My body aches but I can move my limbs without pain."

Mary grinned and then she started to laugh, turning to face him as she squeezed his hand in happiness. Now, she won't do this all alone, she could stop worrying, their children still had their father for as long as possible, their countries had their king back.

"I should return to my duties tomorrow-"

"No, just take some time. We want to make sure, we _have_ to be sure," Mary breathed out, kissing him hard. "I love you."

"I love you too," he said, cupping her cheek. "You have been doing so well in my absence. I have no doubt you will continue to do what is right for our countries."

Mary blushed. "I have been a mess."

"A beautiful one nonetheless," her husband quipped, making her laugh. "Look at you, you have bags under your eyes. You're tired..."

Mary shrugged him off. "I'm fine."

"No, sleep with me."

Mary bit her lip, raising an eyebrow. "Surely you're not well enough for _that._"

Francis choked before chuckling. "I meant _sleeping_, Mary. Keep your mind away from unsavoury thoughts. Perfect Christian woman my arse."

Mary giggled and nodded. "I do have a bit of a headache," she mumbled, rubbing the side of her head. "And I haven't slept properly in a week. The children have been pulling me one way and the nobles the other. Oh, Anne can't wait to see you. She stopped by a few times but you were obviously not ready for visitors."

Francis's eyes brightened. "She's back?"

"I told you this a week ago," Mary said softly.

"Can you blame me? I've mostly been asleep," Francis replied, laughing softly. "I will host a ball. Have Kenna plan it. I want it to be the biggest welcome home party a princess has ever had. Perhaps, we could have a petting area. Bring out all the animals-"

"Francis, you've just recovered and you're planning a party?" Mary asked in disbelief. "Sleep. Now. Head down, lie beside me and sleep."

"Only sleep?"

"Francis..."

"Warning heeded," her husband said, kissing her lips gently. "But I have missed your lips."

Mary grinned. "Fine. A few kisses and hmm-"

She let out a giggle when he climbed on top of her, his lips moulding with hers as her arms wound around his neck, his hands massaging her waist. She didn't even notice the doctor helping them by closing their doors, a happy chuckle coming out of his lips as he walked away.


	79. A Teased Queen

**Replies to reviews: **

**elder441 [chapter 78]: Ah, I'm so sorry, haha! Thanks so much and I'm relieved we can finally get somewhere with badarse Francis joining the game against Darnley who would be shocked for sure!**

**Guest (1) [chapter 78]: Yes! Cry in relief, I am because it was getting hard and emotional for me, I love Francis. Can't hurt our baby our like that. Ooh, I'm actually considering doing defiant, badarse Anne against the world and her journey in Sweden as its new queen story which will be a spin-off from ATEOTB and not a sequel as we still have a lot to do with Frary, going into their older years. Sisters fight, mine and me sure do! But the good thing is we always make up so Rose and Anne will too. Frary won't find out about their little girl's marriage until an unexpected gift comes in the next chapter, leaving them stunned. You're not, hehe but their marriage is not legal so Anne is still a virgin which will be much to her parents' reliefs. Awh, you're welcome, thanks! :D**

**FeliLuna13 [chapter 78]: Yeah, I wanted to trick you guys, I'm sorry! I took Robin's dream and had you all breathless! But thank Goodness Mary's a queen and not a doctor.**

**BlerBlerBler [chapter 78]: Thanks, enjoy the next!**

****I just can't get enough of Frary, hope you guys don't mind my favourite ship sailing hard this chapter.****

* * *

"I see you're still as energetic as ever," Mary mumbled, laughing softly against Francis's chest. "I wasn't expecting to make love so soon."

Francis grinned, his eyes closed. "I've missed this just as much as you."

Mary smacked his chest lightly, sitting up as she covered her chest and attempted to find her dress. She yawned, stretching as she stood and let the covers fall back onto the bed. She found her nightdress instead, seeing that it was pitch black outside.

"I want to meet Darnley's son," Francis said.

"Not now," Mary replied, turning to him with a grin. "I just want you to myself right now and tomorrow and the day after that..."

Her husband raised his brows, biting his bottom lip at his wife's insinuation. He was not complaining, she was looking delectable. They both had needs that needed to be sated but he also had duties for France.

"My love, come back to bed," he said, deciding that he would stay with his wife. They'd been through so much and he couldn't wait to make the most out of having her back in his arms as they slept again.

Mary did as told and snuggled into his chest, feeling his kiss on her jawline. "I love you."

"I love you too," Francis replied, falling asleep.

...

"P-Papa?" Anne stammered once she entered the dining hall for breakfast the next morning.

Francis looked up from his tea and smiled brightly. "Anne! Come, sit beside me and tell me _everything_ about Sweden. Was Oskar good to you? Did you make friends?"

Anne let out a shaky breath. "Is this real?"

Francis pinched himself and nodded. "I am _certain_ that this is all real. Now, come and eat."

Anne hurried over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck tightly as she let out a sob. She felt his warm arms wrap around her waist in response and she grinned through her tears. Her father was alive and breathing and he was right here, in her arms, talking and joking and...

"Papa..." She whispered, her voice breaking. "How I've missed you."

"I missed you too, Annie," Francis said into her ear. "My darling little girl. All grown up."

Anne laughed. "Oh, Papa!"

Rose joined them after with James, Peter and Joseph talking animatedly around her. The four of them stopped and eyed their father and elder sister still in an embrace.

"Papa?" Rose called out softly.

Francis pulled away from Anne and gave Rose a bright smile, holding out his hand before he realised that three little princes were also present. He stood from his seat and waved the four over, embracing his children tightly as he knelt on the ground, James's arms around his neck, Peter cuddled to his chest, Joseph on the opposite of James, his arms around his father's neck and the girls hugging their brothers' backs.

"You all smell amazing. Did Mama tell you to bathe in lavender this beautiful morning?" Francis asked them.

The boys giggled and nodded.

"I don't like lavender," Joseph whined.

"But you smell _great_," Francis said, his arm around Anne's shoulders as his hand found Peter's hair. "In fact, I could eat you all up!"

"No!" The boys cried out, giggling as Francis started to tickle them.

They begged their sisters to help but Anne and Rose shared a soft smile, discreetly ending their private war in peace over the shared joy that their father was alive and well with their hands clutched together tightly behind the princes' backs.

...

"You must be happy," Kenna said, taking a seat at her vanity table and fixing her jewellery on. "Francis is up and about, perhaps you can go sparring or whatever you men do when you celebrate the limits of your mortality."

Bash looked up at her as he finished buttoning up his tunic. Silently, he retrieved his navy doublet and put it on, button by button. He could feel the awkwardness in the air and he wanted nothing more than to end whatever argument they were in and get back to normal.

But a part of him still wanted her to feel guilty for putting such thoughts between them that he and Mary would ever return to what they had in the past. He knew the difference between what he felt for Mary and what he _feels_ for his wife.

"Bash?" Kenna called him, turning her head slightly as she lifted her necklace up. "Do you mind?"

Dutifully, he helped her put the necklace on, keeping his touch on her neck and shoulders minimal before returning back to dressing. Francis had planned an impromptu ball, the damned man and it made Bash laugh to himself. Francis was _never_ one for balls and parties and celebrations so he really must have been feeling better.

"Thank you," his wife mumbled, cutting into his thoughts as she sprayed some perfume on and placed the delicate glass back onto her vanity. "I'll get Sophia, shall I?"

Bash didn't reply, he merely entered the nursery and retrieved their youngest himself, planting a sweet kiss on the nine-month-old's head. He watched as the door opened and the governess led Anastasia in, dressed in her finest blue dress. They were all dressed in the colour of France, blue. It was also the colour of Scotland and Bash had no doubt that Francis would be wearing his crest, the crest uniting France and Scotland through marriage and later siblingship as France's king and Scotland's queen will be brother and sister, equal in their own rights.

"Papa!" Anastasia hugged her father's legs. "Can I kiss Soso?"

"Who's Soso?" Her father teasingly asked.

Ana glared at him. "Sophia, silly!"

"I know," he said, chuckling as he allowed her to kiss her sister's head. "Come along now, why don't we go to the ball?"

"Papa and his girls?"

"Papa and his girls," Bash confirmed, leaning down to kiss Ana's forehead. He stood, taking her hand and holding Sophia in his other arm.

In their bedchambers, Kenna sighed and ran her hands down her face before she stood and went to retrieve Alexander and Robert. She held her youngest son's hand and wrapped an arm over Robin's shoulders as they entered the hall. Robin was taller than her and she was still surprised at how much her firstborn had grown.

"I need to speak with the Queen," she said, shooing them off. "Find your cousins, no mischief!"

"Yes, Mama!" Xander said, running off as Robin followed after at a steady pace.

She walked over to Mary and curtseyed before accepting a drink and turning to watch everyone celebrate whatever they were celebrating. She knew Mary could feel her low mood but before the Queen could even utter one word to query about it, Lola and Greer turned up and curtseyed.

"I see Mary's looking like she's thoroughly enjoyed her night," Greer teased the queen.

Mary blushed. "Hush, you."

"Hush yourself," the blonde continued lightly. "You're the one with a love bite-"

Mary gasped, handing her drink to Lola to check her skin with much difficulty. "Where?"

"She's teasing you," Lola said, making the three women laugh as Mary playfully scowled.

"Off to the dungeons for you," Mary told Greer as she took her drink back and she rubbed her neck. "He was quite lustful..."

"Number seven will be announced soon then," Lola replied.

"Lola!" Mary cried out, laughing as her eyes landed on a quiet Kenna. "Is everything alright, Kenna?"

Kenna's eyes snapped away from Bash and their daughters who spoke to Francis who lifted Ana into his arms as he continued to hold a conversation with his brother and a few other nobles. She turned to Mary and smiled tightly, nodding.

"Everything is fine," she assured the queen. "Just tired."

"None of us has slept properly," Mary said, agreeing. "But what Francis wants, Francis gets and I don't mind because God saved him and brought him back to me. I can breathe."

Greer scoffed a little. "For now," she mumbled. "We still have the whole Scotland situation."

"We're working on that," Mary said, self-assured. "With Francis back, we can put our heads together and find a solution. My husband is a smart man."

"With an even smart queen," Lola reminded them. "You have been doing well so far. Just because you are married does not mean you should sell yourself short. You used to be so..."

"Confident? Abrasive?" Kenna offered. "We ought not to rely on the likes of men to order us about as they lie to us and probably don't give a second thought to our opinions nor what we feel."

Mary, Lola and Greer turned to Kenna, more confused and concerned and Kenna waved it off with a sigh.

"We had an argument," Kenna mumbled. "He's trying my patience."

"Kenna-" Mary began.

"I need air," Kenna mumbled, leaving their sides.

Mary looked on, wondering whether to follow or not but before she could make a decision, Francis came up to them, offering his hand to Mary.

"I want to make an announcement with my queen beside me," he said, making Greer and Lola mock swoon much to Mary's embarrassment.

"Ignore them," Mary said. "I can't say much for their sex lives."

"Mary!" The women cried out, Mary laughing as she followed after Francis.

...

"You thanked our daughters," Mary began, pressing a kiss on Francis's chest. "Our sons..." A kiss on his stomach. "_Me_... I wonder how your mother reacted, she was behind us."

Francis chuckled, lifting her chin so their eyes met. "I did a lot of thinking, Mary."

Mary nodded. "About what?"

"If I should die prematurely-"

"Francis-"

"Just listen," her husband begged her.

Mary sighed heavily and covered her chest, making herself more comfortable on the bed. "Go on."

"You are protected by the French, by your birthright _and_ our sons. Should you need to remarry..." He sighed, biting his lip. "Perhaps Charles if he isn't wedded then. Or someone closer to Scotland."

"If you're suggesting Darnley-"

"God forbid!" Francis replied, shaking his head. "Or an Englishman. Someone who will look after our children. Look after _you_. Will not control you, a queen in her own right. We must plan."

Mary nodded and kissed him. "But don't worry about that. We'll die together in old age, my king."

"Mary, should you die before me, I want you to be assured that I will remain widowed until my dying breath," Francis said, making her smile widely against his lips. "With a few mistresses-" He gasped in pain. "Mary!"

"I dare you to say that again," she replied, smacking his chest again, adding a pinch.

"Ow!" He cried out, bringing her pillow to his frame for defence. "But you'll be dead! And do you seriously think I can remain celibate for the rest of my life?"

Mary glared at him, crossing her arms as she looked away from him. "How dare you-"

"Dear Lord, my wife has no sense of humour," Francis teased her, wrapping his arms around her waist so he could kiss her shoulder as he pulled her into him. "Of course, there would be no other for me. You're everything and if you die, my heart goes with you. In fact..."

He kissed her cheek and left their bed, retrieving a covered frame from the table. He brought it to the bed and handed it to Mary, watching as she removed the cloth to reveal a portrait for her asleep on their bed, the covers down her waist and a soft smile on her face as she dreamed.

"I was inspired," he said, making her blush when she realised she was bare in this portrait. "Very inspired..." He blushed now.

"Oh, Francis..." She whispered, smiling.

"Any time I feel scared or not assured or certain... or even happy because you make me happy, Mary," he began, his voice breaking. "I will look at that. Along with the other pieces of you. I will have them framed, a whole room dedicated to you. I'd sit there for hours until I'm by your side again."

Mary beckoned him back into their bed and he crawled on top of her, pressing a ticklish kiss on her nose. She looked up at him with a smile, cupping one of his cheeks and wondering how she was so lucky to have someone like him in her life.

"I love you," she whispered, not really knowing what else to say because he did that. Made her breathless, stole her best words and made them his own... "I love you. I love you. I love you..."

"I love you too."

And it's the _too_ that makes her lips crash onto his as they spend the rest of the day, entwined with each other. Two souls, one body.

...

"Do you want me to apologise?" Kenna asked softly, watching as Bash got changed in silence. "I'm sorry." More silence. "I do trust you, I swear." _But_, she thought uneasily. "I take everything back."

She sighed heavily and got out of bed, grabbing her night coat and putting her slippers on. She left the room and found the nanny reading Sophia to sleep but the baby was not having it, trying to play with the poor woman's bust instead.

"I'll take her," Kenna said, lifting the baby into her arms and dismissing the nanny with a tip.

She looked down into Sophia's green eyes and smiled, brushing her brunette curls back so she could see the baby's eyes clearer. When she first saw her, she felt nothing but sorrow for what she had lost. But she hadn't lost anything as he was alive and breathing and now she had her husband and their children, including their practically new daughter.

"So beautiful," Kenna mumbled, pressing a kiss on Sophia's head. "So, so beautiful. Aren't you, Sophia?"

The baby babbled and Kenna smiled, closing her eyes as she rocked the baby to sleep. At least someone was replying to her. She circled the room until finally, Sophia's coos were non-existent and soft snores emerged instead.

Kenna put her in the cot and looked up to meet Bash's eyes. "She's asleep."

"Tell me about your dream."

Kenna looked back down at their daughter. "No. There's no point."

"I shouldn't have dismissed it," Bash said softly. "It's just that when things like that are spoken aloud... We really do stop and think, don't we? Mary brought up the prophecy when Francis was dying and... I almost wanted to scream. For her to never utter those words. That _curse_ but our son... he sees them and so does Nostradamus and I can't even imagine knowing that and not being able to protect those I love."

Kenna sighed heavily, gesturing for them to take this away from their sleeping baby. "My dream," she began, once she sat on their bed and he made himself comfortable at the table. "Francis was dead and Scotland revolted, forcing Mary to go there to calm relations. She left James, Joseph and Peter behind. Anne was in Sweden and Rose and Caterina went with her, destined for a life in Scotland permanently. I had decided to go, my loyalty to my queen and blood strong so you joined us, deciding nothing was left for you in France with Catherine as regent for James. We had the little ones, Robin staying behind to be with John and the boys. We were happy until you were leaving our bed at night and I found out... I tried everything to keep you loyal to our marriage and vows but you said you loved her and never stopped. The dream stopped when I became undone."

"Mary loves Francis," Bash started gently. "I love you."

"It's possible to love two people at once, Bash," Kenna told him. "As I was with Renaude, I couldn't stop thinking about you and what you were doing. I just couldn't let you go. I will never be Mary. I'm not a queen. We didn't grow up together as children. We didn't run away together for a chance of freedom or to change a line of succession." She stood and sighed. "I take my apology back. I will never apologise for fighting for you. And if that makes me selfish or a bad person, so be it. We didn't choose this marriage but I damn well worked for it far more than you ever have done. Don't let it all be for nothing."

"I'll be better."

Kenna came over, cupping his cheeks. "I don't need you to try harder or to do less or whatever. I just want you. I want your love, your security, your trust. To others, you are second-best but Bash, you will always be first for me. Losing you to death or to another woman... you will hate me because I will become someone I hate either way. Soulless. Heartless. Loveless."

Bash pulled her to his lap and pressed a kiss on her forehead. "I'm sorry too."

She sighed gratefully, hugging him tightly. "Can we end whatever this was now?" She asked, her voice breaking. "I want my husband back."

He nipped at a bit of exposed flesh, making her scoff. "In what way?"

Kenna rolled her eyes. "I wasn't thinking _that_ but I'm not complaining," she said, grinning when he kissed her.


	80. A Kind Relative In The Queen

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**Guest [chapter 79]: We're back with chapter 80 and soon we'll be moving to the future years. Perhaps this can end at one hundred chapters, we'll see :)**

* * *

Mary stepped back as the tall box was wheeled into the castle, rounding the object to inspect it. "Where is it from?" She asked the guard.

"Sweden, Majesty," the guard replied, dismissing the men who delivered it. "King Oskar sent it for his bride."

"Oh?" Mary asked, turning to see her husband's raised eyebrows at the item as he walked over. "For Anne."

He grinned. "Young love, Mary," he replied. "Have it taken to her rooms."

He led his wife away as the guards struggled to transport the heavy item towards Anne's bedchambers. Mary didn't see the use, it was only going to be taken back to Sweden when her daughter became queen next year. She still couldn't believe that her darling daughter was going to be the same ranking as her.

To her, Anne was still her baby.

"I miss her already," Mary said sadly even though Anne was clearly playing chase with her siblings outside under their parents' newly-found observation. "They're growing up so quickly before our eyes. Even Caterina walks." She laughed when the baby tumbled over and was quickly brought up by James.

"That's what children do, Mary," Francis said fondly. "They grow up."

"Hmm," she hummed, reaching out for his hand.

He easily caught it, warming what was once a cold hand. "I love you," he told her, keeping his gaze on their children.

"I love you too, Francis. Forever and always," was his wife's soft reply as she continued to observe her playful children.

...

"Seems like Oskar misses you greatly," Rose told her sister as they both eyed the life-size statue of Anne. She grabbed the letter. "Made in Italy by a great sculptor!"

Anne laughed wryly, taking the letter for herself. "He's so sweet."

"Aren't you lucky you have a loving husband already?" Rose replied although there was a hint of jealousy in her tone which Anne picked up.

_I'm usually the jealous one. What's Rose got to be jealous of? Being a queen in her own standing one day..._, Anne thought, brushing her sister's hair away from her face.

"Talk to me."

Rose sighed. "James Darnley, our cousin," she began. "I know he's to be my husband but I can't help but think it's quite unfair. You have more freedom to choose to your heart's desire."

"Rose, you are quite luckier than me," Anne replied, shocked. "Mother and Father were engaged since they were six years of age and look, they fell in love and had us and the boys and Little Cat. Their love is one for the stories, one for the decades and centuries! I'm just uniting Sweden and France & Scotland in an alliance but _you'll_ make alliances. You get to make the decisions and not be the breeding mare with a crown on top of her head as I will be. You will be as strong and fair as Mother and as just and kind as Father."

Tears sprung to Rose's eyes. "Do you really think so?"

Anne beamed, nodding. "I know so. And you never know, he may just be a kind husband. I hear he's quite sensitive."

"Father's sensitive," Rose mumbled.

"Exactly," Anne said with a giggle. "I think you and James will be just fine."

...

"Y-Your Majesties," a nervous fourteen-year-old James Stuart, son of Henry Stuart said, bowing low.

"Lord Stuart," Francis said, nodding and gesturing for him to stand. "I should have seen you the moment you stepped into France but I was otherwise indisposed."

James nodded nervously. "It is fine, Your Majesty."

"I trust you have been cared for properly during your stay here?"

"I have, Your Majesty," James said. "You have been very gracious hosts." His eyes flickered over to Mary. "Your Majesties."

Mary smiles gently. "You need not be so worried, James. We are not here to hurt you. We wish to protect you, from your father."

"I know what type of man he is," James told them. "I-I'm not like him."

"We know," Francis replied. "We want to protect you."

James frowned deeply. "Why would you want to protect _me_? You took me from my home and brought me to another country."

"You said it yourself," Mary started. "You know what type of father you have and we do not want to see an innocent child caught in the middle of our war against him. We are not using you as a bargaining chip over him, he does not care for you in the first place. We only hope that you grow up happy and not scared, looking over your shoulder for the day he comes and does you harm. James, you are innocent and we know that. So let us protect you."

James finally nodded, a soft smile of relief on his face. He could trust them and perhaps, find happiness away from his evil father.

"Thank you, Your Majesties."

Mary laughed wryly. "We're cousins, but you may call us uncle and aunt. If that is what you wish? The formalities between family are too much."

"Thank you, Aunt and Uncle," James said.

As they headed back to the hall, Mary suggested, "We should introduce him to the children. I am sure John, Robin, Anne and Rose can be good friends of his, children his age."

"We will see," Francis replied. "I am still wary."

"I know but he is a child-"

"Henry Stuart's child," Francis reminded her. "The same Lord Darnley who wishes you dead. Who murdered your private secretary."

Mary sighed heavily. "I know, Francis. But to ensure that he is on our side, we need to treat him like he is. You saw him whenever Darnley was mentioned, he's terrified!"

"I trust your judgement-"

"Don't patronise me-"

"I'm not," Francis quickly said, cupping her cheeks. "I genuinely trust your judgement. I want you to take the lead with matters concerning Scotland. She is yours."

Mary smiles brightly, squeezing his forearms gently. "Thank you," she replied, kissing him. "Now, I think I want to take a look at the gift the Swedes sent our daughter before we attend Court."

He chuckled, taking her back the other way.


	81. A Wedding Organised By The Queen

**Gosh, I missed this. I've got my sister and mother into Reign and they are Frary and Kennash shippers now, hehe. They dislike Lola, hate Condé and think that Francis and Bash don't give their wives much credit, and it's quite true. We're moving a year later in July, and we'll be at the joint wedding of Anne & Oskar and Rose & James Darnley. James, Anne and Oskar are 15 and Rose is 14.**

**At this point, Darnley has gone underground so to speak and visits to Scotland have been made and treaties have pacified the Protestants in Scotland for now. But once Darnley gets wind of his son's marriage...**

**For a bit, I had writer's block with this but recently, after rewatching Reign for the billionth time, I got some decent ideas!**

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**Feli [chapter 80]: We're back and I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

* * *

It was a grand affair, the joint wedding of Princesses Anne and Rose to King Oskar and Lord James Stuart, the Viscount of Lennox. Mary and Catherine spared no expense much to Francis's slight displeasure but he soon realised that this would be the only wedding day of his eldest daughters, his beloved Anne and Rose.

Wedding gifts were arriving left, right and centre and even _he_ was overwhelmed to see that they had been tripled the amount he and Mary got and his wife and he had never stopped receiving blessing and gifts for their fruitful marriage.

"Robin, John, with me," Anne said, passing them by and taking them away from the other young boys they were with. She sent the other boys a flirty wink but her heart belonged to the Swedish King.

"What is it, sister?" John asked as she rounded the corner and still hadn't said more.

Anne held a finger to quieten him and she continued to head to her destination, leading them outside and to the gardens before finally breathing a heavy sigh of relief, fanning herself.

"If I hear _one more_ congratulations, I'll stab someone!" She cried out, frustrated. "And it's not like I am not already married." She sighed. "God, this corset is tight and it is only to greet the guests."

"Everyone wants this to be perfect for you, cousin," Robin chided her, picking up a flower and placing it in her ear. "The weather's wonderful, the decorations are grand and expensive to your tastes... you deserve it, Anne."

"Or shall we say," John started as the boys bowed. "Queen Marie?"

Anne blushed, laughing as she brought them up and hugged them tight together. "I love you both." She squeezed John even more. "I can't wait for us to start our life in Sweden, John."

John smiled behind her back. "Neither can I," he mumbled before they pulled away and Anne was called over by her lady-in-waiting Celise. "You have to go, sister. Good luck."

Anne's eyes stung with tears. "Oh, God... Alright, I will see you both at the wedding."

"Your Highness," Robin said, bowing low with John as she hurried inside. He turned to his cousin. "Did she seem out of sorts to you?"

John shook his head. "Wedding day nerves. You had them."

"For a false marriage," Robin reminded him as they headed to the stables. "I hope Anne will be fine. At least she has you in Sweden."

John nodded, a smile gracing his lips. "She will."

...

"Isn't that the most hideous thing we've ever seen?" Kenna asked as Greer and Lola giggled at the butter sculpture of Anne and Rose as babes. "Dear God... I bet it was Catherine's idea."

"Reminds me of John's christening," Lola told them.

Greer snorted, collecting a drink from the passing tray. "If I remember, _that_ was a grotesque affair. No expenses spared for the first son of King Francis!"

They spot Mary coming over and they curtsey with Mary pulling them aside quickly as she looked around at the decorations. "My daughters are to be wed today and... God, I'm nervous."

"Relax, Mary," Kenna told her. "They will be fine."

"It's not them, it's me," Mary mumbled. "I thought I had a year with Anne, two years with Rose before they became _women_."

Greer smiles widely. "I remember when Gemma got married... I was so overwhelmed with emotions. Trust me, this is as much for you as it is for them. They will be as strong as their mother."

Mary beamed. "It's bigger than my own wedding. I guess it is for two princesses and queen apparents."

"And what great queens they will be," Lola assured her. "Oh, the music's lovely! Better than at any of ours. You truly have outdone yourselves!"

Mary nodded, looking around. "Needs must. This wedding must be the talk of the world. That France is strong and we're expanding and we will never be defeated in our alliances." She spotted a group of men wandering into the hall and she grinned. "The acrobats! Oh, how Rose loved them for her birthday. I decided to hire them again."

"I'm jealous now," Kenna said, raising her brows. "Both of my weddings were nothing compared to yours and well, this one." Then she smiles fondly. "At least Bash treated me for our fifteenth wedding anniversary at Chenonceau. We spent the whole time there, in bed."

Mary laughed and then sighed. "We still haven't celebrated ours," she mused. "Too busy with Darnley a-and the wedding... I think Francis is planning something for when the girls go on their honeymoon tours."

"Ooh, should I try and find out anything?" Kenna asked. "Men talk and Bash has quite the loose lips if I hit the right spots."

Mary blushed furiously but grinned. "Yes, please do. But for now, it's all about Anne and Rose. Now, let us see the brides on their happy day!"

...

"Rosie?"

Rose turned from her vanity, beaming at James as he walked into her bedchambers, straight into her arms. "My dearest Jay. What is it?"

James sniffled against her chest. "I'll miss you..."

Rose started to laugh, leaning back to cup his cheeks. "James, I am not leaving until..." _Mother's dead_. "James, I'm not leaving anytime soon, my dear little brother."

James's eyes lightened up as he grinned. "Really?!"

"Yes."

"But Anne!"

Rose sighed softly. "Anne has to go to Sweden to her new husband's home. She's now their queen and it will be legalised very soon."

"Will you be there when I get married, Rosie?" James asked as she perched him on her thigh.

Rose nodded, a soft kiss pressing on his forehead. "Of course, I will. You'll have the most stunning of brides."

"Will she be kind?"

"Yes, she will."

"Loving and caring?"

Rose laughed. "As one should be, James."

James sighed in relief, nuzzling his nose against hers. "I love you, Rosie."

"I love you, Jay," she whispered back before letting him hurry out of her room before her father narrowly missed him with a chuckle as he came in. "Father."

"Too formal."

Rose beamed. "Papa!" She stood, hugging him tightly. "Why are you here?"

Francis handed her a gift box. "Remind you of home. Even if you're still remaining here for the foreseeable future."

Rose smiled in confusion, opening up a gift with a gasp. "A locket!"

"Do you like it?" Francis asked softly, slightly worried that she wouldn't. But this was his Rose, who loved anything her father gave her, who was there for him when he didn't want to burden his wife, her mother.

Rose's eyes sparkled with happy tears. "I love it," she whispered, opening it up to see that it was empty. "Oh."

"Rose, you and your siblings are your mother's and I's greatest gifts... One day, you'll be a mother and when that day comes, I want you to put their portrait in that so they will be close to your heart forever."

Rose blushed deeply, staring down at the golden, fine locket in happiness. "Thank you, Papa. It's the best gift you've given me and you've given me so much!" She latched herself onto him, hugging him tightly.

"I know you and James may not love each other right now but I hope that one day, you'll grow to find happiness in each other," Francis whispered into her ear. "It's all I want for all of my children."

Rose smiled. "Thank you, Father."

"You're welcome," Francis said before pulling away and kissing her forehead. "Your ladies will be waiting. See you soon."

"See you," Rose breathed out before watching him leave.

...

"I, Marie Anne Madeleine, take this man to be my lawfully wedded husband from this day until my last," Anne said, holding Oskar's hands tightly with a wide smile on her lips.

He grinned back. "I, Oskar Henrik of Sweden, take this woman to be my lawfully wedded wife from this day until my last," Oskar replied, squeezing her hands as she blushed happily.

The priest turned to the other couple and nodded at Rose to say her vows.

Shakily, she held James Stuart's hands and cleared her throat. "I, Mary Rose Antoinette, take this man to be my lawfully wedded husband from this day until my last."

James swallowed hard and met Mary and Francis's eyes who gave him a firm nod. "I, James Stuart of Lennox, take this woman to be my lawfully wedded wife from this day until my last."

"With the power vested in me... I pronounce both couples, men and wives."

Anne kissed Oskar softly but briefly, knowing her father would lose it for seeing his precious daughter lock-lipped with a boy and she gave her new husband a bright smile.

Rose, on the other hand, pressed a soft kiss on the corner of James's lips, making sure to make it seem as she kissed his lips. He gave her a small smile and let go of her hand as they all turned and basked in the applause and praise sent their way.

During the reception, Anne and Oskar took to many dances as Rose remained near her parents.

"Am I right in guessing you've declined for our wedding nights to be witnessed?" Rose asked her parents.

"Yes, we figured you would require privacy although you must wait a year at least," her mother said.

Francis nodded once. "Anne, on the other hand, must fulfil her duty as soon as possible so... we couldn't quite gain her a pass."

"Not like she'll be complaining," Rose stated, running her nails against her palms nervously. She could see James from across the room, bonding with his new friends and cousins, John and Robin and he seemed at ease.

"Try, Rose," Francis told her. "He is a wonderful young man."

Rose bowed her head. "I know."

Mary lifted her daughter's chin and smiled widely. "Why don't you entice him so he'll come over and request a dance with you? I am sure he is bored of the other noblewomen, he'd fare better with his wife." The best way to do this was to support the marriage, encourage them both and they could find happiness and content instead of resentment. After all, they would have children eventually and rule Scotland, England, Ireland and Wales together.

Rose nodded and looked back over at James who was nervously shifting on his feet. She gave him a warm smile and he raised his brows in surprise, whispering something to the boys before they shooed him off and he started to make his way over.

He bowed low in front of the three royals. "Your Majesties, Your Royal Highness..."

"Lord Lennox," Rose replied softly.

"I was hoping," he began, rising back up. "If you'd join me for our first dance."

Rose turned to her parents and they gave her an encouraging nod which made her smile and nod at her new husband. "I'd love to dance."

As they danced, Rose felt herself loosen up and she and James shared a few jokes much to her sister's happiness. Anne wanted Rose to be happy and right now, Rose allowed herself to be, even sharing a soft kiss under the floating petals around them with James.

"We may not love each other, in fact, I believe we are both new to love," James whispered to her. "But I will serve you until the day I die."

Rose smiled and it faltered when she saw Elliot by the entrance, a tray of food in his hands. It reminded her that she must marry out of duty and not for love and despite her and James's short time of getting to know each other, they seemed wonderfully matched.

Francis's eyes searched what his daughter was looking at and he sighed when he saw the kitchen boy. "Do you think Rose would take on a lover?"

Mary frowned and then her eyes landed on who he was looking at. "I see," she mumbled as they watched Rose shake out of her reverie and be spun by a laughing James. "Sadly, we must do we what we have to for the greater good of our countries."

Rose started to feel faint and she knew it had something to do with the yearning for Elliot, her first love. She excused herself, her curtseying and James bowing before she left and smiled at her aunt and uncle who raised their drinks her way. She decided to speak to them for a little while, deciding she couldn't go to her parents with this - it would be too embarrassing and her beloved Auntie Kenna was ever so useful and knowledgable when it came to the woes of men.

"Did he step on your foot?" Bash asked her, narrowing his eyes at James who headed back to John and Robin.

Rose laughed. "Nothing of the sort!" She cried out, hugging them both tightly. "I just need to peak to Aunt Kenna if that is alright with you, Uncle Bash?"

Bash scoffed lightly, kissed her forehead as well as exchanged well-wishes before bowing and leaving their sides.

Kenna frowned a little, linking her arm with Rose's in concern. "Are you alright, dear?"

"I am," Rose assured her. "I just... I never thought I'd amount to marrying someone out of duty. I never expected to be a queen one day, I thought I could marry..."

"That Elliot?" Kenna asked tenderly. "Your Aunt Claude was the same. She had as many wedding proposals as I had... Ahem, anyway, you will be a queen in your own right, no one would judge you should you take on a lover."

"I know but I don't want to be that sort of queen," Rose told her. "I want to be loyal to one man - my husband. Even if he is not loyal to me."

Kenna smiled softly, brushing Rose's hair back behind her ear. "My sweet niece, ever the kind-hearted and innocent." She looked over at the boy. "Perhaps you could invite him to Scotland, make him your confidant, a brother of sorts, someone you can trust. A bond like that needs to be kept alight. Do not make it romantical, you'll both hurt each other and your partners."

"I understand," Rose breathed out. "Thank you."

"You are very welcome," Kenna said with a bright smile. "Now, head to your mother and father. I've got to find your little cousins..."

Back with Mary and Francis, they both became red-cheeked when a noblewoman presented them with specific gifts for the princess and new queen.

"For their utmost enjoyment," she had said, winking.

"Right," Mary said, sharing a glance with her husband. They will _not_ give these to their daughters but they would... perhaps... They blushed even more at their private thoughts and Francis smirked.

"Thank you," he told the nobleman who flounced off. "I wonder how many times I've taken the Lord's name in vain today..."

Mary laughed, downing her drink and offering her hand to her husband. "Dance with me?"

Francis's eyes sparkled. "Always," he whispered before they hurried to the dancefloor like schoolchildren.

When they had danced two dances, Bash headed to them, his voice lowering so only they could hear.

"Elizabeth Tudor died peacefully in her sleep in Richmond Palace," he said.

"Not unnatural causes?" Mary asked softly.

Bash shook his head. "Her illness caught up with her. What are your arrangements?"

Mary and Francis shared a wary glance. England needed a regent and they didn't know who to trust. With Elizabeth dead, Darnley could very well come back out from the shadows and set his sights on England.

"An announcement," Francis began. "And eulogy and Mary, Rose and I will personally attend her funeral in England. After, we will decide an interim regent before confirming our choice. You will stay here and aid James as regent."

They watched as James ran alongside his twin brothers and cousins, laughter following them.

"We won't remain there for long," Mary promised. "Look after them."

"You know I always will," Bash said with a bow before he left their sides.

"Who do we choose?" Mary asked softly.

Francis shook his head slightly. "I don't know..."


	82. A Funeral Attended By The Queen

**I can't for the life of me remember if I gave Oskar's mother a name. Well, it's now Agnes. Also, I find myself swaying to present tense after writing in it so much lately, haha. Apologies if it isn't past! Goodness, I'm excited for what is to come for you guys! I have had this idea for so long and can finally execute it but of course, things have to happen for it to occur and the seed is planted this chapter!**

**Replies to reviews:**

**biancalb [chapter 81]: Thank you so much! I always felt dissatisfied with Reign so had to do their dream and bring it into a reality as you said for my peace of mind and everyone else's. Yeah, it was crazy! Apparently, the last ever King of France, Louis married Marie Antoinette when they were 12/13. I was surprised but wanted it to be realistic for those times, it is crazy, haha. :)**

**FeliLuna13 [chapter 81]: I am! Glad I did! :)**

* * *

"So," the Swedish Queen Mother began at the family breakfast the next morning. "Should we expect a little heir apparent for Sweden in the future?"

Mary flushed, her husband's eyes widening beside her. "I-"

"Well, we will see," Anne said politely, meeting her husband's eyes mischievously, making her parents blush even more at the mere thought of their eldest's sex life.

Rose picked at her meal, turning to her sister. "I wish you a fruitful marriage, sister."

"Likewise," Anne replied, leaning over to grip her sister's hand tightly. "Oh, the wedding was wonderful. Mother, Father, I thank you both."

Francis grinned. "Only the best for my daughters," he replied, raising his cup in their honour. "I hear we're to expecting gifts for years to come."

"You're welcome," Anne said with a giggle. "We will be leaving for our honeymoon tour at the end of the week."

"We have prepared the grandest of bedchambers for our new queen," Queen Agnes said boastfully. "After you return from your tour, you will be settled into your new home."

Mary bit her lip, staring at her daughter fondly. Since the day she gave birth to her, Anne has always been a blessing in her life and now, she is a queen herself and a wife.

She looked up when Robin entered and bowed before showing Francis the final arrangements for their trip to England for Elizabeth's funeral. Claude would be coming, apparently becoming good friends with the former Queen of England and Elizabeth had been named Lawrence's godmother.

"...and there will be an English envoy to greet us there," Robin finished lowly before Francis nodded and thanked him. The boy bowed once again to the diners and left, the book tucked under his arm firmly.

"I apologise for your cousin's death," Queen Agnes said kindly. "Please, accept some black velvet to wear to the funeral. I had it sourced for a dress of mine after a distant relative died back in Sweden and I planned to attend their funeral but, it would do me well to see you have it instead."

Mary blushed, sharing a smile with her husband. "We love to accept your gift."

Their outfits will have the Valois, Stuart and Tudor crests on it, signifying the union between the three counties and the end to the Tudor dynasty in Elizabeth Tudor.

Mary didn't quite know how she felt. She had to plan for the future - the seat of regent. With the Beatons back as regents in Scotland following her brother's death, Mary had no idea who else to trust. Someone English too. She could suggest Bash but neither he nor her husband would approve. Especially Kenna as well. Frenchmen didn't do well in England. It had to be a Scot.

Swallowing a gulp of her wine, she excused herself, pressing a kiss on Francis's hand and brushing her hand against her daughters' backs and James', she left the room.

She had not grieved Elizabeth's death. They had been at war for most of their childhood lives and now in their adult lives, they had grown stronger and trusting, their bond and their families united. It would never be the same for the Valoises and Bourbons, and everyone didn't mind that but it didn't let Mary forget that the Tudors and Bourbons had been in alliance once. How everything had changed so much!

Where Francis was a king of war, Mary was a queen of peace. He had seldom called her weak, not out of spite or bitterly but to remind her that she was a queen and everyone else was beneath her, even other queens and kings. His weakness was used as a strength, her weakness seldom got them into trouble.

Shaking her head from her thoughts, she smiled when she saw her youngest children playing with their cousins before Kenna scolded the boys for being too rough with the babies.

Both Little Cat and Sophia were the best of friends, Little Cat a month older than her cousin and Mary wondered if she and Elizabeth had started off that way, they would be so against each other come the following years. She can't dwell on the 'what ifs'. The present was now.

Anne was Queen Marie of Sweden.

Rose was Lady Lennox and Dauphine of Scotland.

Mary was...

"Boys and Anastasia," she called out, hurrying to them. "Let's go play hide and seek!"

"Yay!"

A mother.

And she quite loved being so.

...

"Before you go," Claude started, pouring Francis a full cup nervously. "I'd love to invite you and Mary to my wedding."

Francis's eyes widened as a smile graced his features. "You and Bayard are _finally_ getting married?"

"Well, you're alive and kicking aren't you?" Claude retorted, making him laugh and stand from his desk.

"Yes, yes I am!" He said, rounding the desk to hug her tightly. "It's been a year."

She sighed heavily, nodding against his shoulder. "I know but I still worry... We all do."

"Well, banish those thoughts," Francis said, pulling away and cupping her cheeks. "When is the wedding?"

"Tomorrow, I've invited everyone. Just friends and family," she said, her eyes focusing on her feet.

"What is it?"

She met his eyes. "Am I doing the right thing?"

Francis frowned. "What do you mean?"

She left his hold, going over to the window to see Leith playing with Lawrence outside. "I don't want to force Leith to marry me for life. What if I can't make him happy after all?"

Francis joined his sister by the window, smiling when Leith pretended to fall as Lawrence jumped on him with his fake sword. "He loves you and Lawrence as if you're his own. Even Lady Castleroy came to sing his praises regarding you and your son. You shall want for nothing with Leith, I promise you."

Claude leaned into his chest and he wrapped an arm around her. "My love life has been... quite the journey."

"From brothers to older men and priests..."

She laughed wryly. "I didn't say it was perfect," she said lightly. "But I wouldn't change it if it meant I got him."

"Good," Francis said.

"After everything," Claude began, turning to face him. "Mary leaving you for Condé, France falling into the Bourbon's hands, the war against the Spanish... You and Mary fought to be together and you succeeded every time. I hope to be just as determined in my marriage as you both are in yours."

"And you will be, Claude," Francis assured her. "Because you've always been a defiant person. And we're proud of you."

Claude's eyes sprung with tears and she hugged him tightly again, the sound of her son's and fiancé's laughter ringing in her ears.

...

"Monsieur et Madame Bayard," Mary swooned as the happy couple finally stopped dancing. "Do not worry about Lawrence during your honeymoon tour, Kenna will take good care of him."

"We trust her, it is the boy we don't trust," Leith replied lightly as his new wife slapped his chest. "Quite rambunctious! Like his mother."

Claude glared at him. "Leith!"

"Oh, some marital discord," Mary teased them. "I will be anywhere but here, away from the sexual tension."

"You're lucky you are a queen," was Claude's reply as Mary laughed and tittered over to her husband speaking with some French noblemen.

"...the price of grain is high, you ought to sell abroad. Germany, perhaps," one said.

Francis nodded distractedly. "Hmm. That would be wise, yes," he said before grinning at his wife when the men bowed at her appearance. "A dance, Your Majesty?"

"Why, yes, Your Majesty," she replied as Francis excused himself from the men and led his wife to the dancefloor. "Save you, did I?"

"Yes," he said in relief, rolling his eyes a little. "My ears will fall off."

She snorted, both of them going low before coming back up, her husband at her back as their hands joined above her right side and across her hip. "I will never get used to it."

"Neither will I," her husband replied, pressing a kiss on the back of her head. "I missed you."

"We saw each other in bed!" Mary cried out, incredulous.

Francis rolled his eyes again. "Yes, but meetings all day and well, you've been feeling down."

"I didn't know that my cousin's death would get to me this much," she admitted meekly. "She needs to be buried somewhere of importance. Maybe where her mother, Anne Boleyn, was buried."

Francis raised his brows. "That would look like we're supporting Protestants."

"Well, Lutherans, Huguenots and Reformists alike are on their best behaviours," his wife replied.

Francis coughed a little. "I can't vouch for the first one and we both know the last one is anything but. But the Huguenots know that I do not tolerate religious discord. Not now, not tomorrow, not ever."

"Hmm," Mary hummed. When their dance ended and they left the dancefloor, she said, "I have an idea for the regency seat."

Francis furrowed his brows. "Who?"

"A half-Scots, half-Frenchman." She looked over at Claude and Leith, her husband's eyes drawing over there too. "Leith Bayard. A neutral party."

"The English do like him after all of his war efforts..."

"And we need to act fast," Mary told him, turning to him now. "With Leith, Claude and Lawrence coming with us to the funeral, they can set up a life there and be happy with someone we _trust_ taking care of things. He can do it. Even Claude has redeeming features."

Francis nodded firmly. "Very well," he said. "Let us announce to them of their new roles."

...

The funeral was a sombre affair. Rose held her own, keeping her netted face held up and high as queen would. She would one day be the Queen of Scotland, England, Ireland and Wales. She would be untouchable and she needed to act as such as she stood beside her parents with Robin on her other side, Aunt Claude and Uncle Leith nearby as Leith was the new Regent of England.

The wake was just as sombre and Mary conversed and got to know many other English nobles as Francis took Rose away with Robin and informed his daughter of her future duties one day with Leith following behind and Claude excusing herself to tend to her son.

"We should stay for two weeks," Francis told his wife when they finally met each other at the drinks table. "Cool tensions with their new regent."

"That is wise," Mary mumbled, sipping her cup. "Although the longer we are here, the longer I worry about Darnley arriving and doing us harm."

"If he tries, we have armies at the ready," Francis informed her much to her surprise. "Did you really think I wouldn't take precautions?"

Mary blinked once and bowed her head a little. "Do you think he would act so reckless to come for us at a funeral?"

"We are 'weakened' aren't we? Funerals are never fun affairs," her husband reminded her gently. "Once he aligned himself with Elizabeth, now she's dead, he has no control over England if he had any. We all know Elizabeth was loyal to us."

Mary sighed, shaking her head a little. "I have an uncomfortable feeling deep in my stomach," she told him. "Two weeks is too much, one at best."

"Mary, we have England's armies, Scotland's armies, Ireland's men, Wale's men and France's men at our beck and call. If that isn't enough for you, the Netherlands are sailing as we speak to ensure law and order in England and Scotland."

"Must you make decisions without my knowing?" She asked, strained.

"I didn't want to worry you, you were grieving and I would have told you eventually," he replied, kissing her.

Mary sighed. "Send word to the French forces to remain in France. We needn't so many forces should anything happen. We already have one hundred men with us and we will leave twenty for Leith, Claude and our nephew."

Francis nodded. "Very well," he said before nodding at his guard. "Mary, do not fret, everything will be alright." He kissed her forehead and joined his guard as they walked out, black cloaks and suit jackets flowing behind them in their hastiness.

Mary swallowed hard. "I hope," she whispered.


End file.
